Blight & Bliss
by SnowHelm
Summary: To Grace, true magic was fantasy until a meeting with Flemeth made fantasy a reality. Finding herself in a world so familiar; she must navigate her way through a blight, where events that are not always as she expects them to be and learn the truth of who she is. (AU) (REVISED)
1. Prologue

_**Author Note:** This was my first Fan Fic, but I decided to give it a major overhaul and hopefully do the characters and the story line more justice this time around. I hope you enjoy. _

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own Dragon Age Origins / Awakenings or any of its characters._

**xXx**

Thedas was known to Grace only through fiction. However a bizarre twist of fate and a magic as ancient as time was about to make it a reality.

Alone; walking towards home, eyes downcast due to the onslaught of icy rain Grace glanced up startled at what she initially thought was lightening. Her eyes widened in alarm and astonishment at the pulsating blue vortex that opened before her. She hesitated, common sense telling her this couldn't be happening. Glancing around she hoped to see some else; anyone, but the street was empty. The pulsing light increased and Grace felt a tug to her body, soft whispers threading through her mind drawing her irresistibly forward.

Fingers reaching out Grace experienced something like electricity ripple over her skin as she touched the energy. Shock replaced curiosity as searing heat and stabbing sensations filled her body. A gasp for breath made her shudder with pain; her lungs felt as though they were filled with ice preventing her screams, as her body felt as though it was pulled apart and remoulded. Images flashed through her mind; brief glimpses of something that looked almost like a dragon, before finally the pain gave way to a throbbing energy, which seemed to flow through her as though replacing her blood, before soothing darkness encompassed her.

**xXx**

Golden eyes locked on Grace as she lay unconscious. Nearly twenty years she had waited; they were but the blink of an eye in a lifespan such as hers, yet at times it had seemed an eternity to reach this point. Fingertips pressed to Grace's temples and her eyes lit with delight, such unacknowledged power resided within her. Pulling back she resisted the urge to force Grace to wake; she had waited this long, a few more moments would not matter.

**xXx**

Grace floated in darkness for some time before becoming aware of cold stone beneath her. Sitting up with a groan she glanced at her new surroundings. The walls around her shimmered with ice crystals, an eyebrow rising as she caught sight of her reflection. Her waist length; usually straight auburn hair was instead a mass of fiery locks that curled around her face and swept down her back, the colours seeming to shift and almost shimmer. Her skin was paler than usual; though no change to her body that she could see, it had remained curvaceous, but it was her eyes that held her transfixed. The honey colour had brightened to golden, reminding her of a bird of prey.

Tentatively she stretched and got to her feet feeling disorientated. The material that clothed her body was soft and pale blue and she inspected it curiously. It seemed a simple dress; high neckline, long sleeves and the hem whispering against the floor, but it felt almost alive. It hummed against her skin and she looked closely at the tiny silver threads that created intricate patterns, swirling against the soft blue. She felt lost in it and realised she was tracing the symbols with her finger, aware that they glowed faintly at her touch. She stretched her arms to relieve the cramp in her muscles and twirled through the room; the soft slippers on her feet making her dance noiseless. Feeling vaguely childish, she smiled to herself. Grace decided that as dreams go this one was pretty interesting so far, _apart from the pain_. A soft humming reached her ears and she cautiously followed the sound, stopping at the entrance to a larger cave.

An older woman was stood in the centre of the chamber; back to her, appearing to be reading an ancient looking tome. Grace gazed curiously at the woman she recognised as Flemeth, the apostate of legend, a character from a computer game she had found herself almost obsessed with. White hair was pulled into what resembled horns; bound with red strips of material, leaving the back length to sweep to just below her shoulder blades. She was wearing what appeared to be red dragon scale armour. Sharp metal gauntlets clothed her hands and dragon hide boots finished her outfit. _This is one hell of a dream._

"This is reality child." Flemeth stated remaining with her back to Grace, her voice harsh and cold.

Grace stood stunned. C_an the witch hear my thoughts! Grace get a grip this is a dream! _Dream this may be, but it was unnerving none the less. However her curiosity was greater and she closed the gap between them. "This is a dream." Grace countered confidently.

Flemeth turned; her own golden eyes piercing and Grace found herself drawn into them, very aware of the darkness in their depths. Flemeth's lips twisted into a sneer. "So sure of yourself I see. So sure of what is reality and what is fantasy. Yours is not the only world; the only dimension, the only sphere of existence."

Grace met her look with one just as piercing. "How did I get here?"

"Magic. I would have thought that was obvious." Flemeth laughed then, although there was no mirth. "I have brought you here for a purpose. You have power; more than you can as yet conceive of, save a King and change a world." Flemeth pressed her hand to Grace's forehead a slight glow shimmering from her palm.

For one awful moment everything seemed to spin, memories fading and others coming into sharper focus. Grace tried to move; to fight against the weight pressing against her limbs, the urge to move receding as Flemeth spoke again.

"Remember all you know of Ferelden, of the Grey Wardens; their burden, their sacrifice and their honour."

Then the cave and Flemeth were gone and Grace found herself on a field staring out to a forest. It was night and droplets of rain bounced off her skin. She heard rustles and growls and stared in horror as Darkspawn emerged from the undergrowth. Glancing back she saw the army of men her blood turning to ice. "You have got to be kidding!"


	2. Magic and Mayhem

Grace focused her attention on the Darkspawn as they moved into view through the trees. Nothing could have prepared her for the terrifying sight of the creatures as they brandished their weapons, their skin putrid and wreaking of the taint that flowed through their bodies. The air became thick with anticipation, determination and the call for blood. Her heart was pounding as fear seemed to throb in every cell of her body. _I have no weapons and I'm alone in the middle of this field_._ Bloody hell Flemeth what are you playing at_. Electricity tingles darted through her body as though to remind her of Flemeth's words. _I have power, what power?_ Grace slowly opened up a clenched fist as the rain lashed into her and felt tingles in both hands, her mouth falling open in shock as golden energy flickered at her fingertips. Joy surged through her followed by terror as with snarls and fierce oaths the armies surged forward.

Grace had only one destination in mind, to get to Duncan the Warden Commander and King Cailan and keep them alive. Though having never been in a battle before she had no idea how she was supposed to do that. However her first problem was putting enough distance between her and the Darkspawn. Plucking up her courage she imagined flames creating a barrier between them. The flames left her fingers instantly, consuming the first line of Darkspawn. _Holy shit!_ The smell of burning flesh and screams of the dying creatures horrified Grace, but she couldn't help the sense of triumph that using magic brought her. Arrows whistled by her and the Darkspawn ranks fell into further disarray. She heard fierce growls as hundreds of mabari dashed passed tearing into their enemy. Horror filled her as the Darkspawn viciously tore into the war dogs, gutting them even as they were torn apart. She turned and ran on through the mud as the armies met, the clash of steel sounding out around her. Cries of pain of the fallen and dying assaulted her ears and Grace cried out in shock as a soldier was beheaded in front of her and only narrowly avoided the same fate herself.

When she spotted the golden armour of the King; Grace realised that there were fifteen Wardens near him, feeling the throb of their taint deep within herself, rather than knowing who they were. _What did Flemeth do to me?_ Now in the midst of this battle, where she had imagined herself so many times she felt frozen. The ground vibrated beneath her and nausea rose in her throat as she turned. Face to face with an ogre was not something Grace had ever thought she would experience, even in her dreams she had never been faced with such a creature and it was utterly terrifying. The stench made her gag and its battle roar made her feel as though her ears were bleeding. Surprisingly it moved past her heading towards its golden quarry. Her cry of warning stuck in her dry throat and she ducked, narrowly avoiding the blade of a Darkspawn that ran passed. The ogre reached out for the King who managed to duck, swinging his huge blade cutting into the creatures arm. It paused and gave a mighty roar beating its huge fists against its chest. _I have to do something! _She ran then, leaping onto the ogres back grabbing onto the thick leather harness it was wearing to steady herself. Its skin was thick and knotted with muscle, but covered in sores that were weeping and she gagged at the putrid odour. Grace noticed Duncan running towards them, stopping midstride astonished as Grace dragged herself across its shoulder and threw a ball of lightening into its open mouth. The creature convulsed violently as the magic worked its way through its body and then became rigid and fell to the ground. Stunned by her success she leapt off the body turning to the hoard pressing in on them.

Her magic took whatever form her imagination could lend it. Fire; ice, rock, lightening and then as her confidence grew combinations of them. Grace was aware of the Wardens more acutely as the battle surged around her; warriors, rogues and a mage surrounding and protecting the King as they battled their mortal enemy. A blast of ice shot past her, freezing a Hurlock who was in the process of swinging a huge hammer that would have crushed her. She gave a startled cry and sent a barrage of rocks towards it, shattering the creature and crushing the three Genlocks behind it. She glanced towards the mage behind her and her heart almost stopped. Anders was grinning at her. He tossed her a blue vial, drinking the contents of his own then darted off after Duncan as a savage growl echoed across the field. _What's he doing here!_ Grace turned towards the sound and saw the Wardens bringing down another ogre. She stared at what she assumed to be a lyrium potion in her hand and tucked it into a side pocket in her robes.

It seemed hours had passed and still the Darkspawn came relentlessly on. Grace was exhausted and sweat stung her eyes, blinding her momentarily. The rain continued to pour from the heavens as though the Maker Himself was weeping for them. The beacons blaze had lit the sky and the soldiers had rallied with relief that more troops would come. Grace was astonished when Loghain answered the call and his troops surged into the battle. Pushing aside her confusion she knew this had to end now. Despite the reinforcements that were sweeping down the hill they were severely out numbered. _Flemeth only said save the King, but I'm not letting the Warden's die_. Grace took a deep breath and took out the vial from her pocket. _Let's see what you can do with this_. She swallowed the blue liquid grimacing at its bitter taste and felt as though the ground dropped away from her feet. The lyrium seemed to infuse every cell of her body, surging through her like a tidal wave of power. She felt the magic spill out of her body, swirling around her in a haze of humming energy. Grace took a deep breath and allowed her imagination to take form.

Duncan watched startled as golden energy began to pulse around the mage who had felled the ogre intent on killing Cailan. He was aware that the majority of his Wardens had sustained wounds and the King was breathing heavily, blood flowing freely from a deep wound to his right side and a laceration on his forehead. The Darkspawn were regrouping and surging forward yet again and he was filled with dread that they would be unsuccessful. Moments later the mages golden energy shot out in a pulse that moved across the battlefield. Duncan felt the energy sweep through his body, a welcome heat in the cold night that seemed to fill him with renewed energy and confidence in their ability to defeat their enemy. He felt his wounds close with an almost gentle caress, until only a whisper of an ache was left where gaping wounds had been. He stared around him in wonder as his comrades wounds were also healed, the energy of rejuvenation easing the ache and cramp of their muscles. However when the golden light hit the Darkspawn it had a dramatically different effect. Those it hit fell to the floor convulsing before giving their last breath. The few remaining soldiers from the initial troops; only fifty in number rallied to the King, somewhat dazed by the new turn of events.

Grace felt the energy swell within her and as it surged out she felt as though she was limitless. The golden energy pulsed from her body, and she felt bathed in the wonder of the power she had tapped into. However moments later she became aware of a dull pain moving through her limbs and it was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate. With a sigh she allowed the energy to ebb away, acknowledging that in fact there were some limits and the effects of lyrium wear off. As the golden light died she was aware of cheers as the remaining Darkspawn were driven back into the Wilds by Loghain and his troops. Grace glanced to her right to see the King and Duncan moving towards her. Her legs buckled and she gave an exhausted gasp; sinking to the ground, her eyes closing.

**xXx**

Grace slowly became aware of raised voices and struggled to open her eyes. Her limbs felt like stone and she realised she barely had the strength to raise her head. _I'm still here. Starting to think this might just be real after all_. She groaned trying to roll back her shoulders to relieve the ache and was stopped from moving at all as a blade touched her throat.

"Be still apostate." A gruff voice commanded.

_He thinks I'm an apostate! I'm an idiot, why didn't I just pick up a weapon and be a bit less obvious. Because I would have been dead in seconds that's why! That must mean he's a Templar. Oh shit_! She stared wide eyed at the armed and heavily armoured man and realised he wasn't alone. Five Templars in all surrounded her and although she could not see their faces for their helmets, she was very aware that each one was just waiting for an excuse to strike her down. "Could I have some water?" She managed to croak; refusing to show how unnerved she was, but her voice betraying her. A Templar threw some water at her face. _So it's going to be like that_. She was too exhausted to do any magic and so contented herself by glaring at him. She managed to look towards the arguing which was still raging and saw the King; Duncan, Anders and a priest whose arms were gesticulating wildly. She was aware that the other Wardens were close. The priest was yelling something about too much power and tranquillity and to her astonishment Duncan invoked the right of conscription. She thought the priest was going to combust as her cheeks flushed a deep red and she spluttered her refusals. Duncan reminded the priest that he did not require her permission and the Wardens came forward having to push the Templars aside.

Anders gave her a cocky grin. "I'm assuming you don't want to stay with these Templars." Grace shook her head struggling to sit up. "You really shouldn't let your mana drain to that extent." He chided gently, ignoring her protests and scooping her into his arms.

Grace felt her heart beat wildly. She was in Anders arms! Anders! Her mind was practically skipping with delight and despite having just been in such a fierce and lengthy battle he smelled delicious. Anders chuckle brought her back to herself realising she had been staring.

He strode through the camp holding onto her tightly, the other Wardens taking up protective positions around him. Grace felt lulled by the warmth of his body and gave a deeply contented sigh as she allowed herself to rest her head against his chest. She was vaguely aware of wolf whistles and Anders laughing gently, but she was too tired to pay attention. He laid her down on a cot in a tent and left giving her a grin and saying he would be back soon. Grace drifted into a comfortable sleep and was unaware when he returned with Duncan.

**xXx**

Duncan watched the young woman sleep. His body was exhausted, but his mind was exhilarated by the possibilities of her magic. So much power, potentially one of the best weapons in the fight against the Blight and they had wanted to make her tranquil. It stunned him how little sense it made. The woman gave a soft moan and he saw her body tense. Her eye lids fluttered wildly as she whimpered. Duncan rested a hand on her shoulder to sooth her; startled when her eyes flew open. He froze; her golden eyes reminding him of a time he had long tried to forget, his heart thumping almost painfully as an old grief threatened to surface.

"Duncan!" She whispered in awe. Grace suddenly felt completely overwhelmed. This was real. Every inch of her told her it was true and the emotional onslaught of the realisation left her breathless. Her joy at realising she could do magic; fear of the battle and terror that Duncan would die, then waking up to the Templars took its toll. She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly; breathlessly thanking the Maker he was alive. She felt him tense in surprise then relax and his arms held her gently. She slumped against him completely exhausted and closed her eyes, sleep claiming her once more.

Duncan looked in stunned silence from the woman in his arms to his Wardens who had entered the tent.

"She's going to be trouble." Gavarth muttered with a grin.

Duncan glanced at the dwarf, whose thick black hair hung loose around his head and jaw having come free from their usual ties. He had a fresh scar above his left eye, which snaked down to his jaw and his green eyes flashed.

"I agree." Duncan rumbled with a grin; putting Grace back onto the cot and covering her with a blanket, only then wondering how she had known his name.


	3. Kittens Have Claws

When Grace woke again she sighed and stretched lazily. Although still aching, it was no longer painful to move. Feeling tingles move down her back she turned and watched fascinated as Anders sent soothing blue healing energy to her cramped muscles. "Hi." She smiled sitting up, a knot of excitement pulsing in her stomach.

"Good evening." He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew Grace was very different to any other mage he had ever met. Her entire aura seemed to shimmer and there were times when he was healing her that he almost felt wrapped in lilting notes that drew him to her. It was an unusual sensation, but not an uncomfortable one.

"I'm Grace."

He gently clasped her offered hand. "Anders."

Grace raised an eyebrow as he pressed a kiss to her fingers. She flushed and smiled shyly. _He really is gorgeous!_ Pulling herself together after he returned her hand she looked at him curiously. She sensed the taint within him, it called to her and she had to stop herself reaching out to touch his face.

"You're very skilled." He kept his voice soft, wanting to put her at ease.

"Lucky is closer to the truth." She murmured rubbing her forehead.

"Okay I have to ask; where did you learn to do that last spell, the one that healed the army, or what was left of it and killed the Darkspawn at the same time?"

Grace smiled at his eager face. "Would you believe me if I said I just used my imagination, well that and the Lyrium you gave me." His startled look made her worry at her lower lip. "Told you it was luck."

"Didn't you think it would alert the Templars?"

"It wasn't exactly my choice to be here and once I saw the Darkspawn it was more a case of survive now, deal with the Templars later." _Not that I even gave Templars a thought! _Grace jumped as Anders brushed his thumb against her lower lip and she felt the tingle of his magic.

"You were making your lip bleed." His voice was gentle, deliberately soothing and she couldn't help smiling at him.

"Thanks."

He returned her smile with a cheeky grin that lit his hazel eyes. "I'm a handy guy to have around."

"I just bet you are. So how come you're here, as a Warden I mean?"

"How do you know I'm a Warden?"

His startled look surprised her. "I just assumed with you being with Duncan. He is the Warden Commander isn't he?"

Anders nodded thoughtfully, watching curiously as she reached out her hand and pressed it against his chest.

"And I can feel the taint within you." Grace spoke softly, her look seeming far away. Shivering she started to withdraw her hand; startled when he pulled it back to his chest, holding it there with both of his hands.

"You can feel the taint? Are you a Warden then? I can't sense you like I can sense the others."

"No, I'm no Warden."

"How do you sense it then?"

Grace panicked and tried again to pull her hand away. "I don't know." Anders refused to let go and she felt a trickle of magic moving through her willing her to be calm, soothing her now tense muscles. "Hey, that's not fair." She whispered with a deep sigh.

Anders mind was spinning; he needed to speak to Duncan. "I escaped from the Circle." He said gently, grinning at her confusion. "You asked how I was a Warden. I escaped from the circle, my sixth attempt in fact. That particular confrontation with the Templars was a bit ... complicated and Duncan conscripted me shortly after."

"Complicated how?" Grace noticed the wince as Anders remembered something that clearly made him uncomfortable.

"It turned violent, well more violent than usual." He glanced to the ground, his face darkening as difficult memories surfaced. "I'm not the only one led to the Warden's by violence." He said quickly, having no wish to speak of that particular part of his past. "Aedan's had it tough too."

"Who's Aedan?" Grace asked quickly, hoping to pull him from the dark thoughts that were making him frown.

"Aedan Cousland; though don't tell him I told you, he's a bit sensitive about people knowing his name after what happened to his family."

"Why? What happened?"

"Arl Howe massacred them. Aedan barely got out with his life. He's a good man, if a little damaged."

"Damaged?"

Anders nodded remaining silent.

"How long has Aedan been a Warden?"

"Six months now." Anders watched as she worried at her lip again.

Everything seemed just a bit out of alignment. "Is there a Warden called Alistair?" She wondered if she sounded too eager and was aware she was firing questions at a man who didn't even know her.

"The only Alistair I know is Prince Alistair, King Cailan's half-brother. He's no Warden, but he's what the other Wardens call a true warrior. He was with Loghain and his troops."

Grace reeled in shock. _Okay so things are a bit different here_. "_Prince _Alistair?"

Anders gave a wicked grin. "I've heard he's still a virgin. It's a crime; you'll see what I mean when you see him. I've often wondered if he made a deal with a demon for those looks, Maker I'd be willing to risk it to have just one night with him."

"Anders!" He laughed at her shocked face. _At least some things are the same. _"So who lit the beacon?" She was startled as he looked away; clearing his throat, his words sounding shaky when he spoke.

"Aedan and ... and my … a friend. They haven't returned. We did a sweep while you were sleeping; the tower was filled with Darkspawn bodies and a dead ogre at the beacon. We didn't find them."

Grace squeezed his hand gently. "I'm sure they will be back soon."

"You must be hungry, come on." He pulled her up and led her towards another tent, anything to take his mind from those still missing.

Grace gazed in wonder at the multitude of stars unspoiled by artificial light. "I slept all day?"

Anders chuckled. "None of us had the heart to wake you and well we were busy." He cleared his throat. "Come. Food first then you can gawk at the stars."

Grace opened her mouth; but realised they were both shivering as the icy night settled around them and kept her comment to herself, grateful when Anders hurried her on into the warmth.

**xXx**

On benches at the long table in the centre of the huge tent sat the Wardens. She glanced about nervously as the talk stopped and all eyes turned to her, she hated being the centre of attention. Grace noticed a few raised mugs in her direction accompanied by warm smiles helping her to relax slightly.

"Come on now Wardens you've all seen a woman before." Anders said thoroughly enjoying himself. Keeping a tight hold of her hand he pulled her further into the tent; running his thumb soothingly across her hand, distracting her by giving her a quick rundown of the seated Wardens. "Duncan you've met. Travis; Treymour, Garrett and Michael are our rogues and Danforth, Farin, Liam, Stepheno and Cameron are our warriors. Not forgetting Gavarth our dwarven warrior and we are lucky to have three of the Dalish, Maverin and the twins Lynais and Loren, also warriors."

"You're the only mage?" Grace asked startled.

"Until you." He chuckled. "Come on, make a space." He nudged Gavarth indicating to Grace to sit and settling on the bench beside her.

Grace realised she was seated next to Duncan having a flashback of hugging him and feeling her cheeks burn, all thoughts of food abandoning her.

"I'm Duncan, though you already seemed to know that. How do you feel?"

She gulped at his searching look, suddenly aware of the mud and blood dried into the robes she was wearing and the tangles of hair that seemed to be springing from her head. "I'm fine, though I could use a bath."

"Aye, I dare say we could all use a bath."

Grace suddenly became aware that her hand was still in Anders. He was grinning, contentedly munching his way through an enormous plateful of food. She leaned over keeping her voice a whisper. "You can let go now."

He gave her that cheeky grin that made her stomach tighten. "Spoil sport." He let go of her hand as Duncan cleared his throat to regain Grace's attention.

"It seems we owe you our lives."

Grace focused on Duncan again her mouth falling open in surprise. "Hardly!"

"I've never seen magic like that before." Duncan's gentle tone did not manage to hide his curiosity.

Grace tensed and not for the first time wished she had chosen a path that had not made her apparent magical abilities so obvious. "Two parts desperate; one part insanity." Her grin was forced.

"Demon or abomination, which are you?" A voice filled with barely suppressed rage snarled out.

Grace glanced at the human opposite her and visibly shrank from his cold glare. "What?" The startled gasp left her lips before she could silence herself.

"Travis!" Anders hissed in warning.

"Anders!" The word dripping venom.

"Enough!" Duncan snarled. "Leave your prejudices outside."

"You can't be serious about making her a Warden. Don't we have enough loose cannons as it is?" His glare was directed towards Anders and Grace felt her fellow mage tense. "No one can do magic like that. Either she's a demon in human form, or she's accepted one into herself and she's an abomination."

"I am not!" Grace gasped indignantly. "Just because I can do magic you've never seen before doesn't mean I'm a complete idiot and invited a demon along for the ride."

"All mages are dangerous especially one's like you!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" She snapped back, her temper flaring.

"Apostate!"

"Enough! You will remember who is Commander!" Duncan's voice was just short of furious.

Grace was horrified that she was causing a rift between the Wardens. "Excuse me." She ground out through gritted teeth; embarrassment, confusion and fury battling within her. Standing she glared at Anders as he pulled her back down onto the bench.

"You need to eat." He said firmly, struggling to hold back his own anger.

"I can eat elsewhere." A hand clamped on her shoulder as she rose and she was gently, but firmly pushed back onto the bench. The Warden who Anders had pointed out to her as Danforth was huge. He was over six foot and broad, his muscles straining against the material of his tunic. His dark brown hair was tied back in a ponytail and his grey eyes regarded her calmly. He stood directly behind her and folded his arms, his challenge silent. Grace glanced from Danforth to Travis and back again. "Please Danforth; this isn't necessary, I had no intention of causing a problem. I'll just take some food and head back to the tent."

"If it hadn't been for you I wouldn't be here." His voice was surprisingly gentle. "And neither would Travis, not that he will ever admit it."

Grace realised she was just staring at him. "Oh."

A snarl ripped from Travis's throat. "I refuse to stay in the same place as that!" He yelled as he stormed out.

Anders gently squeezed her hand and she let out a shaky breath.

"I apologise." Duncan said gently. "That was unexpected."

"Guess he doesn't like mages."

"No." Duncan sounded incredibly sad. "He does not."

Grace ate an apple thoughtfully as Danforth retook his seat and the talk started again. Facing Darkspawn was one thing; they were monsters, terrifying, but still seeming almost unreal to her. Travis on the other hand was human and although she was struggling to remember home, she knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of a rage fuelled fist and she knew she needed to be on her guard with him. She was biting into her second apple when two men entered the tent. She almost choked, Loghain had his arm around Alistair's shoulders and both were grinning. Alistair was gorgeous, his blond hair was the same style as his brothers and Grace had to admit the longer style suited him. His hazel eyes were warm and his easy smile made her heart flutter. Seeing them so friendly sent shock waves through her whole body and she hurriedly looked away her mind reeling in confusion. _Get a hold of yourself Grace!_

**xXx**

Alistair had pretended not to notice that the young woman had been staring; but he chuckled to himself when she realised and had turned away, a soft flush staining her cheeks. If Cailan had of been in the tent he would have marched right up to her and had her charmed and eating out of his hand in minutes, even with Loghain present. He noticed Anders sitting next to her, his hand resting on hers and was startled by the urge to separate them. His stomach tightened as Anders leaned over and whispered something that made her laugh. Before he could stop himself he was walking towards them. "Our mage friend is rested after her exertions I hope."

Grace stared at him, startled at the confident swagger and intense stare focused on her. "Yes … um … thank you."

Alistair thought about what Cailan would do, his mind made up as she cast an uncertain glance to Anders who simply shrugged. "I think your new recruit is a little intimidated Duncan."

Laughter circulated the table, which to Grace's dismay included Loghain and Anders. _Oh Maker just kill me now why don't you_! Grace narrowed her eyes. _Two can play at this game_. "Not at all your Highness." Her voice was deliberately soft and sultry, mesmerising the young prince. He had closed the distance between them and was looking down at her as she sat on the bench, her stomach somersaulting. "You would have to be twice the size and be tainted before you could intimidate me." Raising an eyebrow she awaited his response. Anders gave a spluttered cough and she was aware the rest of the Wardens were struggling to hold back their laughter. She was relieved when Alistair looked amused.

"I doubt you would be intimidated even then." Alistair chuckled. "My brother was impressed to say the least at your ogre killing skills." His grin was infectious. "Fine; fine, no more teasing then."

Grace smiled and took his offered hand, feeling an astonishing pull towards him. She glanced at him startled seeing a brief look of surprise in his eyes before he slowly pulled his hand away.

"I would urge caution Prince Alistair. She is an apostate!" The sharp tone of a woman's voice made them freeze.

Grace glanced over and saw Wynne, a scowl of disapproval on her face.

"And she is an unknown quantity." Loghain stated firmly, all laughter gone from his face. The Teyrn and Grace locked eyes. "It would be unwise to trust her." Loghain addressed Alistair and Duncan, while his eyes never left her.

"Maybe we shouldn't trust you either." She spat back furiously.

Loghain looked mildly amused at that. "And what reason could you have not to trust me?" His voice was deep and almost mocking.

She opened her mouth. B_ecause you betrayed the King; but you didn't, you answered the signal. Damn it Flemeth I don't know what's going on. _She yelped suddenly as his fingers wrapped around her wrist, having closed the distance between them while she was distracted by her thoughts. She tried to pull back and when he wouldn't let go she sent a surge of lightening to him, just enough to make him pull away.

"Duncan your kitten has claws." Loghain mocked.

"Kitten am I?" She hissed.

"Grace." Anders coaxed gently, his hand resting on her shoulder. "You need to calm down."

She took a deep shuddering breath and pulled away from Anders grasp and giving a last glare at the Teyrn she stormed out.

**xXx**

Silence hung in the Warden tent for some time after Grace had left. "Such raw power." Wynne muttered. She moved to Duncan's side. "My advice if you wish it; is to have Anders watch her closely, such magic as she demonstrated cannot come without a price."

"She is no abomination." Duncan whispered.

"You are sure?"

"Yes."

"Very well Commander. Should you have need of me you know where I am." She discreetly left the tent, Duncan startled to hear unexpected irritation in Alistair's tone.

"Loghain that woman saved Cailan and mage or not you will show her respect for that at least."

Loghain sighed looking at Alistair and running a hand through his dark hair. "You have to admit her just appearing on the battlefield; the magic she wields, she is unlike the other mages in camp. We have all heard stories of Witches of the Wilds." He shivered at his own memory of meeting Flemeth. "They are cunning and dangerous and until we know what her intentions are she should be closely watched."

"I believe her intentions were perfectly clear. That ogre would have killed my brother were it not for that woman."

**xXx**

Anders moved to the tent entrance and slipped out making his way to Grace's tent. He entered and felt his heart constrict at the sight of Grace sitting on the cot her head in her hands; her body trembling. He wrapped his arms around her hoping it would bring her at least some comfort.

"I'm messing everything up Anders." She said her voice muffled, leaning into the warmth of his body. "Everything is so different to how I thought it was."

He held her gently, softly running his fingers through her hair. "I admit shocking the Teyrn would not have been my first choice." He grinned helplessly "But I'm so glad I saw it."

Grace looked at him startled and laughed. "I guess I'd better watch my back." Wincing at the thought of Travis's hate filled look and imagining the Teyrn's anger.

"Forget about Travis and Loghain is a good man who has a deep affection for the Wardens. I'm sure Duncan will smooth things over. Why are you looking at me as though I have two heads?"

"Loghain has a deep affection for the Wardens?"

"Maker, where have you been? Without him the Wardens may not have had any support at all."

Grace rubbed her forehead and frowned, a headache starting to throb. "Everything is wrong."

Anders looked at her in concern and gently ran his hands over her head.

She felt the soft pulse of healing magic and sighed as her headache eased away.

"Your head does feel a bit fuzzy." He conceded. "But no damage. Get some sleep, and I'll check on you again in the morning."

Grace settled down beneath the thick blankets and tried to relax. Her eye lids felt increasingly heavy and she nestled into the pillow allowing herself the luxury of sleep.


	4. Settling In

Duncan listened carefully to Anders retelling of Grace's curious ability to sense the taint within them and narrowed his eyes, deep in thought. "She seems to be friendly with you; I want you to stick with her, find out what you can about her."

Anders nodded, enthusiastic about spending more time with his fellow mage. "No problem."

"Oh and Anders keep an eye on her magic, the last thing we need is Templars trying to interfere."

"Do you think they will?"

"Relax Anders." Gavarth grinned. "She's conscripted; they can't do a damn thing. We just don't want to rub their noses in it." He gave a slight chuckle. "No matter how much fun that would be."

**xXx**

Anders kept his promise and entered Grace's tent at first light the following morning, gently rousing her from her sleep.

"Anders?"

"Umm?"

"I need to get this robe cleaned and I really do need to get a wash myself."

He grinned as she looked at herself helplessly, trying to pull out some of the tangles in her hair with her fingers. "Change of clothes I can help with and we have a bathing tent." He laughed at her eager face and motioned for her to join him. They quickly crossed the camp to a large blue tent she hadn't noticed the night before. "Wait here." He insisted as he slipped into the tent.

Grace heard soft laughter and had the distinct impression that it was at her expense. Part of her wanted to walk into the tent to embarrass whichever of the Wardens was in there, but she restrained herself knowing that she would be the one to end up with a scarlet face. Moments later three of the Wardens were shooed out by Anders, giving her lurid winks on the way.

Anders grabbed her wrist and pulled her in laughing as she stuck her tongue out at the retreating Wardens. "Okay; bath, towel and I'll just go sort out fresh clothes." He hurried out, securing the tent flap behind him.

**xXx**

Grace sank into the warm water and sighed in contentment. She longed to soak, but considering she was in an army camp full of men she thought it would be a little inappropriate. Her thoughts drifted to home as she quickly washed, but her memories were fleeting shadows that she couldn't quite grasp and somehow Flemeth and what she knew of the Wardens and Ferelden had become her strongest memories. Grace's thoughts strayed to Alistair and she felt her smile broaden. He was gorgeous of course; funny and a tease, but his confidence had been a surprise. _Mmmm Alistair; you're not the shy man I expected, or is that just show? I wonder if you've liked growing up a Prince. No Eamon; no Isolde, Maric acknowledging you, loving you hopefully_._ I wonder if Anders knows_. Her heart soared as her mind drifted to the cheeky mage. Flirt though he was, something was nagging at her that she shouldn't get too attached to him. _I wonder who his 'friend' is_. Moments later Loghain's face disturbed her lustful thoughts and her brow creased into a deep frown, unable to work out if the Teyrn was in fact trustworthy. Scrubbing herself harshly she continued down dark thoughts to Travis and winced as she rubbed too hard making her skin raw. His almost black eyes sent chills down her spine despite the warmth of the water and she had no idea how to handle him. He hated her; that was obvious, but hating her because she could do magic made no sense to her. Finally her mind came full circle back to Flemeth, wondering what the witch truly wanted from her. She tugged at a particularly tangled piece of hair and yelped.

**xXx**

She was out of the tub with a towel wrapped around her, having also washed her robe when Grace heard Anders asking if he could enter. He handed her a bundle of clothes and backed out of the tent again; careful not to allow his eyes to linger. Pulling on the blue tunic and black breeches she found she missed the hum of her robe and hoped it would dry soon. The black boots fitted perfectly and she wondered suddenly how Anders had known what size of clothes and footwear to get. Distracted, she was startled when Duncan, Danforth and Gavarth entered. All three halted immediately. "I was just getting cleaned up." _State the obvious why don't you_. "I'm not sure what to do with the dirty water though." She saw no way to remove it and flushed at her own confusion and the men's attempt to hide their smiles. _How do they get rid of it?_

"I'll see to it." Duncan stated.

Flashing him a relieved smile Grace headed out of the tent, careful to keep her dripping robe from splashing them.

Gavarth chuckled. "You'd think she'd never emptied a bathtub before."

Duncan watched her, his eyes narrowing. "I would not imagine there are many bathtubs in the Wilds."

Gavarth scratched his beard. "Fair point. She's a sweet kid Duncan, I think we can relax."

Duncan sighed and turned to the tub. His hesitancy came not from the woman she was, but the woman whose eyes she favoured.

**xXx**

With her robe draped over a chair just outside of her tent to dry, Grace wandered over to the wall where Anders was sitting and jumped up next to him.

"Blue suits you."

A huge grin spread across her face that she was powerless to stop. "Thanks."

"So do I get to ask a few questions now?"

Grace laughed remembering what would have seemed like an interrogation when she had spoken to him for the first time. "Sure."

He gave her his usual cheeky grin. "Your magic is impressive. Who taught you, you're no Circle mage with magic like that?"

"I guess it just comes naturally, I don't remember ever doing magic before the battle."

Anders crossed his arms, his expression one of exasperation. "I'm your friend Grace, or at least I'd like to be. You don't have to be afraid. I know being an apostate must have been hard for you, but you're safe with the Wardens. The Templars can't hurt you."

Grace glanced at him cautiously. "Anders I swear as far as I know I have never done magic before. I am finding it hard to remember things though." She flinched as he raised his hand to her head.

Anders paused and gave her a warm smile. "I didn't sense any head trauma last night, I just wanted to make sure."

Grace nodded; sitting still as his warm energy trickled through her body, focusing at her head.

Anders frowned; there was an energy he was unfamiliar with, but he knew enough to know it was the remnants of a spell, her memories were being deliberately masked. He realised she was watching him intensely and he smiled. "What do you remember before the battle?"

"I woke up in a cave. I remember a woman called Flemeth; she sent me here, told me to make sure the King survived. That's the truth."

He nodded thoughtfully trying to keep the shock from his face. "So you are perhaps a Witch of The Wilds."

She elbowed him playfully and jumped off the wall. "Maybe, so don't mess with me."

"Never my lady." He chuckled, jumping off the wall himself and giving a low bow.

**xXx**

The next two days were a whirl of activity as the Wardens laid out their plans, discussing the treaties and who would go where. Duncan was also in discussion with Cailan daily; the King was eager to return to Denerim, but did not wish to leave until he was sure the threat was over.

Grace woke each morning startled to find she was in a tent, giving herself time to become accustomed again to the noise of being in an army camp. She would silently remind herself of where she was and what she had done, allowing the golden energy to swirl at her fingertips for confirmation. Anders had made the transition easier than it would have been. He always seemed to be there; explaining who people were, making sure she stayed away from the Templars and brightening her day with his mischievous smile. She found it easy to talk to him and they fell into an easy exchange; she told him what fragments she could remember as he worked to lift the spell which was proving to be extremely resistant. Each day more shards of her memory returned; walking home through the rain, a bright light, the pain before she woke up in the cave. Anders told her about the Circle, not going into detail but enough to make Grace very glad she had been conscripted. He told her a little of his experiences as a Warden; but he never mentioned his 'friend', though she would often catch him looking out to the Wilds an anxious look on his face. No-one ever said it, but Grace got the impression they believed their fellow Wardens had been taken by the Darkspawn. Grace wanted to suggest they could be with Flemeth; but Loghain had not betrayed them, the Darkspawn had been driven back, so she had no idea if Flemeth would have bothered to save them.

Wanting to help Anders; Grace had spent some time focusing on the taint of the Wardens, trying to sense them from greater distances. She practiced with Anders; the mage quickly picking up her intent that if she could sense them from a distance perhaps she could sense those who were missing, but her range barely reached from one end of the camp to the other and Duncan had expressly forbidden her entrance to the Wilds. Grace moved to Anders who was standing near the gate simply gazing out towards the Wilds and gently clasped his hand squeezing slightly. There was no point in saying anything, but she wanted him to know she was there. He gently squeezed back, the only sign he was aware of her.

Grace also watched with interest as Loghain and Alistair backed up the Wardens, even when Cailan questioned them. _This is too weird_. Loghain often caught her eye, but she immediately retreated having no wish to get into another argument.

The Wardens teased her endlessly about shocking the Teyrn, but she found herself enjoying their banter and had quickly become comfortable in their company. Travis kept his distance which was fine with her. Gavarth to her surprise also seemed to take her under his wing. He appeared to be Duncan's right hand and while she suspected he was keeping an eye on her, she enjoyed his sense of humour and his teasing of herself and the other Wardens. She found them all fascinating, an interesting mix of personalities and skills. Thinking about being one of them was strange and she wondered if she would even survive the Joining. That thought often left her quiet, a worried frown creasing her brow. Anders or Gavarth were usually on hand to pull her out of those darker moods; though she never explained why her mood suddenly changed, after all she had no way of explaining how she knew about the Joining. At night she often found herself wishing Duncan would just get it over and done with, at least the awful wait would be over.

**xXx**

Anders realised that Grace's talents lay with elemental magic, but he wanted to see what else she could do and they had been practicing shields and glyphs. He noticed her distraction and cleared his throat to catch her attention.

Grace had realised that Alistair was watching them again and it never failed to take her off task. He rarely spoke other than a brief greeting, but his eyes lingered and she was always left with the impression he wanted to say something. "So tell me about the Prince." She whispered to Anders; as Alistair was pulled back into the discussion with Duncan, by an amused Loghain.

"What do you want to know?"

"What was his childhood like?"

Anders looked at her frowning slightly. "He is a Prince; he grew up free and rich what more do you need?"

"Love, nurturing. I'm just wondering what his life has been like."

Anders regarded her, curiously. "Have a crush on him do we?"

"I don't know, do _we_?" She laughed at his scowl. "Jealous?" Anders ignored her, throwing a fireball, which she promptly doused in water. Steam hissed between them, making them quickly step back from each other.

"Maybe you should ask him yourself."

"Maybe I will."

He ducked the rocks she manifested and tossed at him lazily and lay down a glyph of paralysis. Distracted as her eyes locked with Alistair's she moved back, feeling the magic tighten around her. Her cry of panic froze in her throat as her body tried to fight the effects of the spell. It wore off more quickly than usual and she turned on a laughing Anders, freezing him and leaving him to thaw.

**xXx**

Alistair watched the magical duel and chuckled as Anders stood frozen. He had remained curious about Grace. The pull towards her he had experienced when they had first met had alarmed him, wondering if she had cast some kind of spell. He had wanted to speak to Wynne, but her disapproval of Grace made him hesitate. The Templars were already on the war path about her conscription and Wynne would likely inform them if he expressed his concern. His only other option was Anders. He left Loghain still speaking to Duncan and wandered over to the frozen mage, leaning on a half rubble wall watching him with a smirk on his face.

Anders was finally able to move, shivering and startled when Alistair flung a blanket at him. "Be thankful she did not cast a fire spell at you."

Anders wrapped the blanket around himself. "At least I'd be warm." He muttered.

"Anders I would like to ask you something if I may?"

Anders shifted uneasily. "Of course your Highness."

"Can we speak in private?"

Anders felt his stomach flutter, nodded and led the Prince to his tent. He turned to face him. "This is as private as it gets in an army camp."

"Indeed. Anders you are aware of the interest the Templars have taken regarding your newest recruit."

Anders paled. "She's conscripted they can't touch her."

Alistair raised his hands placatingly. "I agree in theory; I am not so sure the Chantry agrees, however that is a different matter. I need to ask you a question about magic and I was concerned if I spoke to any of the Circle mages it would get back to the Templars."

"Something about Grace's magic?"

"Yes. When I saw her for the first time and then held her hand I felt something, a pull to her I suppose. I need to know what that was."

Anders failed at suppressing the smirk. "Lust maybe." He chuckled at the deep flush rising on Alistair's cheeks.

"It was not lust." Alistair snapped.

Anders smirk deepened. "It's perfectly natural you know."

"It was _not_ lust!" Alistair growled. "Maker, I knew it was a mistake to speak to you."

"Hey!" Anders gently caught his arm and then flushed remembering who Alistair was and took a step back. "Sorry."

Alistair sighed. "Look, all I need to know is has any kind of spell been cast on me?"

Anders raised an eyebrow; before stepping towards Alistair, his hands emanating a soft blue glow.

Alistair eyed him warily. "Is that necessary?"

"If you want me to find out if a spell has been cast on you, then yes."

Alistair glanced upwards as Anders hands pressed against his chest, swallowing at the warmth that filled his body. He was relieved when Anders stepped back.

"No spells that I can detect." He gave a cheeky grin. "I still think it was lust. Grace is very easy on the eyes."

Alistair shook his head, rubbing his neck as his flush deepened again. "Thank you Anders, I appreciate your help."

"Any time your Highness."

Alistair glanced at him suspicious of being mocked before he nodded, almost tripping as he left the tent.

**xXx**

Amused by his exchange with the Prince, Anders sought out Grace. He was still wrapped in the blanket, shivering from the effects of the ice spell. She was manifesting elemental magic; merging spells effortlessly without a word leaving her lips. Anders had no idea how she was creating such powerful magic without some form of incantation. It was fascinating, but slightly alarming.

Grace noticed his unease and stopped what she was doing. "Alarm is an interesting look on you Anders."

"I just... I've never seen magic like yours before, it's a little unsettling."

Grace sat on the ground watching the lightening flicker across her fingertips. "Maybe I should stop doing magic." The moment she said the words Grace regretted it, there was no way she was giving up magic.

"I'd rather you didn't." A deep voice signalled Duncan had approached them.

"Duncan, even Anders is getting nervous. That's not a good thing."

"I wouldn't say nervous." Anders injected quickly, "More stunned; inspired, in awe."

She smirked at his lopsided grin. "Don't lie; you're as freaked out as Travis is."

"Am not." Anders muttered huffily, standing next to Duncan his arms folded.

Duncan hunkered down and cupped Grace's chin in a rough hand until she was looking directly at him. "Warden's do what they must Grace."

"I'm not a Warden yet." Her reminder was a little bitter and she was curious at the indecision plastered on his face.

"How about we concentrate on healing magic?" Anders suggested quickly, knowing the Commander was wrestling with how to proceed with her conscription and healing was an area she wanted to learn more about. He grinned as he was rewarded with a small smile.

**xXx**

"Grace I only wish to talk." Loghain had finally caught up to her at the Warden's main tent.

Grace was trying to remind herself that he had not in fact betrayed the King and left all of the Wardens to die.

"Maker what have I done that you distrust me so?" His voice was almost pleading.

_How am I supposed to explain this_? "Why should I trust you when you don't trust me?" She countered, her voice sounding harsh and cold.

Loghain gave a sigh and nodded. "Quite right of course. I spoke those words unthinking. I can be a suspicious man at times, but you must admit you just appearing on the field of battle was a little unconventional." He unconsciously ran his hand through his thick black hair.

_I'm a complete ass, he hasn't done anything wrong. _ "If it's any help, I was as surprised as you to find myself there." She smiled slightly at his raised eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"My memories seem a bit scrambled, but Anders is helping." She looked at him then, her golden eyes searching. "I'm sorry about the whole lightening thing." She was startled when he grinned.

"Served me right." Grace was surprised at the laugh that bubbled up in his throat; rich, deep and sensuous. He held out his hand. "Let's start again."

Grace took the warm, calloused hand into her own and smiled. "I'm Grace, it's a pleasure to meet you."

He gasped at the faint shock and laughed loudly at the wicked grin spreading across her face.


	5. Blades at Dawn

The morning of the fourth day of Grace's new life, she set off in search of Anders for their usual training session. She knew there wouldn't be many opportunities left to train, as the scouts had brought back news of Darkspawn movement. They may have won this battle, but the war it appeared was far from over. They needed to get further support if they were to defeat them; their losses had simply been too many to wage an effective campaign. Distracted by the smell of food her stomach growled hungrily. _Food first then fighting_. She was just about to enter the main tent when she heard raised voices and hesitated.

"Leave Grace alone Travis, or I swear you'll regret it."

"What's the matter Anders, not bedded your new pet yet!"

Grace heard Anders growl in response and debated whether to interrupt the argument or not, but the friendship she had built with him meant she was stepping into the tent before realising. Travis was towering over Anders looking incredibly intimidating. "Whatever your problem with me is Travis, leave Anders out of it."

Anders glanced at his friend and felt his heart lurch. She was glaring at Travis her fists clenched, her hair a halo of fire around her. A brief smile settled on his lips as he likened her to a barbarian queen.

"I have a problem with all apostates, including your boyfriend here." Travis spat back his fingers resting on the daggers at his hips.

His gesture was not lost on Grace and she felt white heat surge through her body. "Why don't we just take this outside?" She snarled, not waiting for a response as she walked out of the tent. _What the hell are you doing Grace_? She stalked over to the wall and was leaning on it appearing relaxed when Travis followed by Anders exited the tent. Grace watched her opponent. His dark eyes seemed like black liquid and were framed by thick black locks. His dark skin was scarred and he stood at least a foot taller than her. He was broad; muscled and Grace tried to push past the fact that something about him terrified her.

Travis pulled out his blades twirling them expertly, the sun glinting off the freshly sharpened edges. "No magic." He hissed.

Anders gripped his arm glaring, but Travis wrenched his arm from the mage. Anders glanced at Grace in concern; his eyes pleading with her to back down, but she had that look. He darted off to find Duncan hoping he could bring some sanity to the situation.

"Well you better give me a weapon then." She said calmly.

"Take your pick." He pointed to the weapons rack to her right.

Despite having some experience with martial arts she had never trained with weapons. _This is a bad idea Grace, a very bad idea. _Her fingers rested on twin blades that seemed to hum, not unlike her robe. The hilts were crimson; disturbingly looking like blood, which ended with the head of a dragon, but the weight in her hands felt comfortable. She walked back towards Travis and her heart almost froze at the hate gleaming in his eyes. "It's hardly fair if you're fighting with your usual weapons when you're denying me mine."

Travis snarled, but re-sheathed his daggers and took a sword and shield from the rack. He struck without warning, forcing her to leap backwards almost losing her balance to avoid the blade.

Glaring furiously Grace brought her right blade up to block his, while darting forward with the left.

He easily deflected her with the shield; moving so fast she could barely keep up, remaining on the defensive just to keep on her feet. He grunted and shoved her hard into the wall.

Gasping painfully as the wind was knocked out of her; Grace suddenly wished she hadn't suggested he change weapons, Travis seemed perfectly at home using a shield and it was big and hurt. His blade was heading for her face and she just managed to block it, darting past him. His foot connected with her knee and with a cry of pain her leg buckled beneath her. Turning; Grace found herself pinned to the ground by the weight of his body on hers, his hands around her wrists pinning them above her head.

"Know your place mage!"

She saw red and drove her uninjured knee between his legs making him keel over releasing her as he gasped for breath. "Know your own bloody place!" She snarled bringing her fist slamming into his jaw. She was sure she hurt herself more, but seeing the blood from his lip helped to lessen the pain. She staggered to her feet, her right hand struggling to hold the dagger and pulled protectively to her side. Travis rose and they began circling each other again.

**xXx**

Duncan was startled as Anders ran into the tent barely able to understand what the young man was trying to tell him. By the time they reached Travis and Grace; all of the Wardens had gathered, although the two fighting appeared oblivious to all but each other.

"Why doesn't she just freeze him or something?" Gavarth grumbled.

"He said no magic and the idiot accepted." Anders muttered in frustration.

"She's losing." Cameron stated the obvious as usual, gaining a scathing look from the mage. "At least she got him to change his weapons, but the bastard is just as proficient with those as he is with daggers. It was never a fight she could win." He brushed back a stray lock of auburn hair and ran his fingers across the stubble on his chin.

"We need to stop this!" Anders looked to Duncan in agitation as he shook his head concentrating on the fight.

"If I stop this it will just happen again, you know Travis. You will be able to heal any wounds she suffers."

"I can't heal death!" Anders snapped angrily.

**xXx**

Travis roared and again drove Grace into the ground, her head slamming into the earth leaving her dazed. She screamed as he purposefully crushed her right hand in his, slamming it into the dirt above her head. He grabbed her remaining dagger and pressed the blade against her throat. "I should slit your throat." He hissed.

Grace stopped struggling and lay still her breath ragged and her heart beating painfully. "Why do you hate me so much? I've done nothing to you."

He was shaking and she winced as the blade bit into her skin, a spot of blood gleaming on the steel. He bent close to her ear and whispered. "Apostates killed everyone I loved. They tainted everything with their blood magic and demons."

"I'm sorry for those you lost Travis, but I'm no blood mage. Please; let's start over, you've won."

"Enough!" He roared, jumping to his feet glaring down at her.

For a moment she thought he was going to start kicking her; but he turned, striding away still furious. Grace forced her unwilling body to move and got to her feet unsteadily, watching Travis leave the Warden section of the camp. Closing her eyes and bowing her head, she took a shuddering breath.

"Grace...are you okay?" Anders anxiety was obvious in his tone.

She nodded keeping her eyes closed as nausea rose in her throat praying she wasn't going to vomit on him.

"We need to talk." Duncan stated taking hold of her arm as she looked up startled. She nodded again, speech eluding her.

**xXx**

Grace found herself sitting on a wooden stool; Anders tending to her now broken hand, while Duncan paced back and forth in agitation. Danforth was sitting on a cot with Gavarth, looking vaguely amused. "Fighting a rogue on his terms when you're clearly unskilled, that seemed like a good idea did it?" Duncan finally spoke, his voice sound harsh even to himself.

Grace gave a hiss as Anders reached a particularly sore spot on her hand. He mumbled an apology while she fought back the nausea. "It wasn't completely on his terms; I got him to change his weapons." She flinched as Duncan growled. "Look." She said forcefully her head snapping up, her eyes fixed on him. "He clearly has a thing about mages, I really didn't want to make that situation worse and we both know I could have landed him on his ass if I'd used magic."

Duncan nodded and finally sat down.

"I said she'd be trouble." Gavarth chuckled.

"Duncan I didn't mean to cause trouble; but we had to sort out whatever is going on between us, I thought it would clear the air." _Not to mention he was being a complete ass to Anders. "_He beat me, maybe that will be the end of it."

"That's not how Travis works." Duncan sighed rubbing the centre of his forehead with his fingertips.

"What, my complete humiliation and a broken hand wouldn't be enough for him?"

"I will speak to him." Duncan sighed and leaned on the makeshift table, chin resting on his fingertips gazing at her. "For now I need to know a few things about you Grace."

"Ask away."

"Anders informed me that you are aware Warden's bear the taint, that you can sense it in us, but not in the Darkspawn."

Grace looked at Anders who flushed and looked away at the annoyance on her face. _How am I supposed to explain this, I have no idea what Flemeth did to me!_

"I'm his Commander Grace; it was his duty to tell me. How long have you been able to sense the taint?"

"I've never sensed the taint before being on the battlefield, but then I've never met a Warden before."

Duncan nodded seeing the truth of her words. "Nor have you used magic apparently." Grace arched an eyebrow at Anders. "Would you like to tell me how you know the apostate Flemeth?"

Grace pulled her hand away from Anders, thankful he had finished his healing. _How could I be so stupid? I thought you were my friend but you just needed to get information for Duncan. _"Is everything I say to be reported to you?"

"Grace I …" Anders found himself cut off by Duncan and glanced at the ground his stomach churning.

Duncan's voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "I need to know as much as possible in order to protect you."

His words made sense; but she withdrew into herself all the same, dramatically deciding she was never going to speak to Anders again. "I met Flemeth once, minutes before she sent me into the battle as I am sure Anders has told you. Perhaps she will have the answers you seek, I'm sorry but I don't."

Duncan watched her for several minutes before finally nodding. "Very well. Dismissed."

Grace slipped out of the tent without a backward glance, feeling foolish and wishing Flemeth had told her what the hell was going on.


	6. Tranquillity Sucks

Grace had refused to speak to any of the Warden's during the rest of the day; pacing the camp angrily, feeling utterly alone. She knew it was childish and foolish, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. Anders had tried to approach her several times and she had ignored him.

Anders glanced at Grace and felt sick to his stomach. He understood betrayal; what it was like to have your own words turned against you, but none of them had meant it to be like that. He approached her one last time. "Grace I know you won't speak to me but please listen. I _am_ your friend, even if you don't believe that right now. The last couple of days have been … well amazing. It's lonely being the only mage and we've had fun haven't we?" He stared helplessly at her back. "I just wanted to make sure you were safe from the Templars Grace; I'm sorry, I messed up." He reached out his hand to rest on her shoulder; but drew back before he touched her. He liked to pretend otherwise but he was vulnerable too and her anger with him was like an open wound. "Maybe we can talk later." He murmured, backing away. He trudged passed Gavarth who patted him on the arm.

"Give her time."

**xXx**

As night fell Grace had reached a decision. _Either Duncan makes me a Warden, or I'm going to find Flemeth! _She halted by the main tent; ducking out of sight when she saw him standing with Danforth, Loghain, Anders and Alistair.

"I don't want to risk losing her magic. You know the risk of the Joining; at least if she's alive she will be useful, dead she is of no help to us."

Duncan's matter of fact tone left her chilled. _Of course he thinks like that. The Wardens do what they must. It's not like I want to be tainted. _

"I must admit I'm not anxious for her to take the risk of the Joining." Anders said softly.

There was a wistful tone to his voice that made Grace smile a little despite her anger with him.

"Anders it would be better if you didn't become romantically attached to her."

"Duncan she's just my friend." He muttered flushing.

Grace took the risk of looking at the men and was surprised by the scowl Alistair was directing at Anders.

"Besides she's not even talking to me."

Anders miserable look made her heart soften towards him a little bit more.

"She's young." Loghain stated with surprising tenderness. "She can barely be twenty summers if that and for one so young to have such power must be an astonishing burden."

Danforth gave a stifled chuckle. "Maybe that's why she has such a temper. I swear a few more like her and we wouldn't need an army. I defy any Darkspawn to withstand her wrath."

Grace grinned in spite of herself. Slipping away from the tent deep in thought; Grace left the Warden section of the camp without realising, walking leisurely towards a section of wall that looked over the chasm of forest that was the Wilds. The night was cold and she shivered wishing she had worn a warm cloak. Hearing footsteps behind her, Grace turned wanting to be alone and intending to move on. Her heart almost stopped, as a group of four Templars approached.

"Apostate." The leader hissed.

Grace moved backwards, bumping into the wall realising she had no-where to go. "I'm with the Wardens." Her voice betrayed her rising panic.

"I see no Wardens." The one to her furthest right snickered, making a show of looking around. He moved forward pinning her to the wall, smirking as she tensed. Grabbing her hair, he yanked her head back making her eyes water. "You will submit to the will of the Maker, you will be made tranquil."

Horrified Grace felt her magic flare. The Templars were prepared, encasing her in the light of their Holy Smites. Grace was dimly aware she was being dragged through the camp, her whimpers fading as she lost consciousness.

**xXx**

Grace awoke to the feeling of cold stone beneath her and opened her eyes expecting to find herself in the cave with Flemeth. Instead she realised she was in the old temple tied to a stone slab. She grimaced at the irony of it. Here was where she should be having her Joining, but instead she was going to be made tranquil. "Just kill me." She hissed. Their laughter faded as they concentrated on the rite and a burning pain penetrated her forehead becoming a deep stab. She was screaming and they gagged her, paying no attention as she started to choke. The pain moved through her head and she felt herself retreating further; terror making her run to the dark, hidden places of her mind, but the ritual sought her out. Chased her where she hid, seeking to sever her connection to the Fade with the burn of lyrium.

**xXx**

Loghain had walked away from Duncan, Alistair at his side and Anders deep in thought behind them. The Teyrn sighed deeply, receiving a questioning look from the young man beside him. His thoughts had strayed to his own meeting with Flemeth so many years ago and he wondered how Grace was connected to her. He opened his mouth to speak when a scream pierced the night.

Anders looked up sharply before sprinting in the direction of the scream; his stomach twisting, deep in his core he knew Grace was in trouble. Alistair and Loghain quickly caught up to him, freezing when they saw the Templars surrounding Grace who was thrashing against rope bonds. Anders roared in fury targeting the Templar closest to her freezing him. This was quickly followed by two Templars being knocked unconscious by Alistair, the fighting alerting the other Wardens.

It seemed an eternity that Grace burned; when she heard Alistair and Anders voices she prayed they were there to help her. Her body convulsed as the pain tore through her. The burning at her forehead intensified, her smothered scream halted abruptly and she lay still.

Loghain pressed the tip of his sword to the throat of the Templar who had just completed sealing the brand on Grace's forehead. "Back away." He snarled, pressing the steel into flesh making the young man move.

"We had our orders." He gasped.

"She is a Warden recruit." Gavarth snarled furious with what he was seeing as he reached them. "You have no authority." He turned to Anders. "Get her out of here."

Grace was aware of movement around her, but she was paralysed and even had she not been there was no inclination to move. Everything seemed so distant. She felt herself lifted and was aware of warmth and strong arms holding her and she wondered briefly what would happen to her now before her mind closed down.

Anders tucked Grace into his arms, followed closely by Alistair as they hurried back to the Warden section of the camp, both white with shock.

Wynne was called by Duncan and knelt before Grace clasping her hands. Grace was silent; still, her eyes unseeing, the brand raw on her forehead. Wynne sighed. The Rite of Tranquility was a necessary evil, but to be done in such a manner was brutal. "I'm sorry child. The Circle will care for you now."

Loghain glanced to Duncan, the pair exiting the tent and heading for the King roaring their fury loud enough to wake the entire camp.

Several Wardens came in and out of the tent over the next few hours trying anything to make her react, but Grace remained like a statue. "She's strong." Maverin stated. "We've never seen abilities like hers, maybe..." The words died away at Anders fierce glare.

"She's been cut off from the Fade." He yelled. "I failed her; she was my friend, I should have been watching over her." Anders gave an agonised sob and sank to his knees at her feet, holding Grace's hands and pressing his lips to them. It was one more loss that tore into his heart.


	7. It's A Question Of Trust

Anders alternated between pacing in the tent, to crumbling to the floor in utter despair. He had no idea what Duncan would do now, but acknowledged it was unlikely he had need of a tranquil mage. He thought of Grace spending the rest of her life in the Circle and cringed. Not that it would matter to her any more. He had never heard of the paralysis lasting for so long; but he wasn't eager for it to end, to hear Grace's melodic voice become monotone and devoid of the lilting tones that had made him smile. He had spent hours raging at himself for his actions. Berating himself for not staying closer to her, knowing full well that the Templars had been enraged by her conscription. He ached for her smile, for the fierce temper that he had been both protected by and on the receiving end of. Her golden eyes once so full of life were dull; diminished somehow, with only the occasional blink to let him know her body was still functioning on some level. He had extended his magic around her, but felt nothing. She was gone and yet he couldn't leave. Clinging to hope however slight that she would become herself once more.

**xXx**

Duncan sat with his head in his hands, fury and bitter regret warring with each other in his troubled mind. The Wardens were silent, still in shock and unsure of what their Commander would do next. Only Travis seemed content with events, but he was wisely keeping his opinions to himself.

Loghain was standing upright with tension; his hand gripping a sitting Alistair's shoulder, supporting the young man he had often wished had been his own son. Cailan had not been thrilled at Alistair's handling of the situation in particular the assault of the Templars, but he had not gone against him.

"We have a few more days of scouting and then we leave, I cannot put off gathering support with the treaties any longer. The Archdemon will not wait for us." Duncan finally stated.

"And what of Grace?" Danforth's soft voice trembled slightly.

Duncan shook his head and rubbed his eyes, he had no answers. His thoughts returned him to the confrontation with Mother Lucia.

_The King had said he would talk to the Priest, but Alistair had no time for his brother's caution. "Well there goes the diplomatic option." Cailan sighed. _

_Duncan had quite admired Alistair's more direct approach and had quickened his pace to join the young Prince. Although only twenty-two Alistair had a commanding presence when he asserted himself and reminded Duncan of Maric._

"_She was a danger." The Mother's simpering tones only succeeded in enraging both men. "The Chantry is clear about such cases. Apostates must be dealt with. They have had no controlled training and as such are prey to the forces out with our control within the Fade."_

"_The Chantry does not supersede the right of conscription." Duncan had kept his voice low, but felt a tingle of satisfaction as Mother Lucia paled. He noticed the slight gesture she made with her right hand and she was instantly flanked by two Templars. _

_Smiling condescendingly Mother Lucia relaxed, feeling the balance of power had shifted back in her favour. "The Chantry is the law and even Grey Wardens must obey the law, despite thinking otherwise. You will bring the girl to me and we will see she is suitably put to work in the Circle. She will not be without purpose." _

_The feral growl that left Duncan's lips made even the Templars take a step back. "You have no idea what you have done you narrow sighted fools. She could have made a real difference, this is a true Blight and we needed her."_

"_She was one mage, I hardly think even with her questionable abilities she would have made the_ _type of difference you claim."_

"_Enough!" Alistair's anger finally boiled over. "You and your Templars will remove yourselves from the main camp. You will be placed under guard so there are no more incidents involving your men and you will hand over the four Templars who performed the rite."_

"_My Templars were performing their duty Prince Alistair and not even the King has the power to punish them, let alone you." _

_Alistair felt his face turn red and clenched his fists, the veins in his throat pulsing wildly. "You will watch your tone Mother Lucia." He hissed through clenched teeth. "As low as I may be in your opinion I have the power to make life very difficult for you." She dismissed his words with a patronising smile. "Let us see how you manage without funding from the royal coffers." His mild tone was rewarded with her sharp intake of breath and her hand fluttering to her heart._

"_You would not dare."_

"_Your men performed a rite in what I have been informed was clearly an act of brutality; on a woman under the jurisdiction of the Grey Wardens, in a Blight no less. Your attitude madam has been deplorable. I am confident that my brother, __**The King**__." He intoned in a deadly voice. "Will agree with and implement my ruling in this case."_

"_Your Highness." Her voice was sickly sweet and she lowered her eyes in a gesture of respect long overdue. "Perhaps I have spoken too harshly. The rite cannot be undone; but I will agree to her remaining with the Grey Wardens if that is their wish, but I cannot allow the Templars to be punished for performing their duty, no matter how enthusiastic they may have been." _

_Despite the anger of both men they realised that this small compromise was the best they could hope for. Turning to leave, Alistair felt a hand grip his arm._

"_If I may your Highness. What of the Chantry's funding?" _

_Alistair almost choked, but swallowed his rage. "That remains to be determined. I suggest you keep your men under control." Pulling his arm away he walked quickly from the agitated Mother. _

_Duncan followed him, his mind flirting with ways to deal with the four Templars and wondering what he was going to do with a tranquil mage._

**xXx**

Grace felt as though she was at the bottom of a very deep well, only the tiniest shaft of light penetrating the gloom. The walls encased her like a tomb, preventing her from moving. Her cries for help lost before they were even half way from her prison. She focused on the faint light that still reached her; willing it to expand, or for the well to shrink. Each effort brought only pain, as though someone was burning parts of her brain with a fiery bludgeon. There was no subtly, only a constant brutal torment.

Every now and again faint voices would reach her ears and she would strain to catch the words, savouring them as a dying man would savour precious drops of water in a desert. _I shouldn't have been so awful to Anders. It was all so stupid_. Fear coursed through her ravaged mind and she longed for an end to her imprisonment. _I'm not letting the Templars win_. Bracing herself for the pain that would follow; she focused on the shaft of light, allowing her will to take shape and forcing the light to expand, gritting her teeth against the pounding of her skull. _I defy any Maker that thinks this is just_. The snarl ripped from her throat and finally Grace accessed her anger. It cocooned her; pushing back the pain, just enough to allow her to keep on expanding the light. The change in pain caught her by surprise; her whole body seemed to burn as the light surrounded her and she gave a scream, primal and terrifying.

**xXx**

Anders jerked his head up and caught Grace as she fell forwards, a scream ripping from her throat. He held her as she clutched his robes; moans of pain shaking her body as she choked on her tears.

Duncan, Alistair and Loghain crashed into the tent and stared in amazement as the brand began to fade.

Anders held her tightly; barely aware of the words he spoke to sooth her. Tears flowed down his cheeks in relief, joy and astonishment.

"Please Anders don't let them take me again. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She buried her face in his robes clinging to him in terror.

"How?" Alistair voiced the question all of them were asking.

"Wynne said they performed the rite for brutalities sake, perhaps it was not completed." Loghain proposed, staring in awe at the young mage.

Her distress was not fading and a very relieved Duncan suggested they leave Anders to tend to her.

Alistair hesitated, his eyes fixed on the traumatised young woman. He glared at the mage in whose arms she was cradled.

Loghain gently took hold of the Prince's arm, motioning for them to leave.

**xXx**

Anders held Grace as she sobbed long into the night. The brand was completely gone, but her skin was feverish and she seemed unable to stop shaking. "Darling Grace." He murmured; wrapping another blanket around her, nuzzling her hair. She was still clinging to him terrified that she would slip back to that dark place. He pushed back a stray lock of fiery hair, fingers gently brushing her flushed skin. Need overwhelmed Anders and he kissed her gently; giving a soft moan of relief when she responded, his own pain easing a little as he tasted her soft lips against his own. Fingers wound in her hair as he gently deepened the kiss; heart pounding as she opened her mouth, her tongue brushing lightly against his own.

Grace felt her world shift and she clung to Anders; he was her friend, her anchor, but right now she needed something more. She needed to be held; to be touched, to have that awful experience pushed back, even if it was just for a few moments.

Her soft moans filled Anders with an almost primal desire. He gave a deep growl as her lips caressed his throat, and jaw. Her fingers surprisingly nimble now she had stopped shaking; loosening the ties of his robes, hands tracing the muscles of his chest and stomach.

Her fingers lingered on a jagged scar that ran the length of his chest. "Templars?"

Anders nodded, his throat constricting at the painful memory. He gave a sharp intake of breath and closed his eyes as her lips pressed against the silver trail. Her eyes hungrily roamed his body, sinking into the hazel depths of his eyes that were darkening with desire. His body trembled as she pressed against him, her hands and soft lips setting him on fire. A face flashed in front of Anders eyes and his body tensed, guilt freezing him. Reluctantly he pulled back. "You need to rest." He kissed her forehead where the brand had been and picking her up he lay her on the cot.

Grace, startled by his sudden change was overwhelmed by terror as he started to move away and she clung to him. "Please Anders, don't leave me."

He hesitated and then settled down next to her, wrapping her in a blanket and pulling her close. He finally felt her relax into sleep; resting his head next to hers, his voice little more than a whisper. "I'm sorry Grace, I shouldn't have kissed you. Damn it I'm a bloody fool." He finally fell into a restless sleep; chocolate brown eyes stared at him accusingly in his dreams.

**xXx**

Grace was aware of two things when she woke up; that she was on the cot alone and Anders was trying to have a quiet argument with another man.

"Maker's breath Anders, now I have to put up with your wandering eyes in our own camp." The words hissed in frustration.

"Cullen you know I love you." He whispered back.

_Cullen! He's in love with Cullen! _

Anders gave a low sigh. "I kissed her; but that's all I swear, this isn't Grace's fault." Anders voice became soft. "I was so scared when we couldn't find you...I thought...I."

"You thought to replace me so quickly." Cullen's voice was laced with hurt.

"No! Cullen please you mustn't think that, I'd never..."

Cullen gave a deep sigh. "I thought we had got beyond this Anders. Do you even think about the people you hurt when you do this?"

Grace remained still as the silence lengthened between the two men. When Anders finally spoke his voice sounded more vulnerable that Grace had ever heard it.

"I thought you were gone, that the Darkspawn had taken you. I couldn't bear it; that I wasn't with you, to either defend you or die with you. Grace kept my hope alive. Then those bastard Templars made her tranquil and I thought I'd lost someone else I'd come to care about. I've messed up so many times with Grace already and I've known her less than a week! It was stupid, but I was so grateful when she came out of it."

"Anders stop, she was made Tranquil?"

Anders gazed at Grace and nodded. "It was awful Cullen; they had her tied to that slab in the temple like some bloody sacrifice. She was screaming and …" Anders shuddered, Cullen pulling him gently into his arms. "Afterwards she just sat there, barely moving. The Mother was furious when Duncan conscripted her, I should have known they would try something."

Cullen gently cupped his jaw. "Hush love, how could you possibly have known?"

"Because it's what they want to do to all mages." He spat angrily.

Cullen rested his forehead against Anders. "You know that isn't true."

Anders claimed a tentative kiss. "You're the exception to the rule."

Cullen allowed a slow smile to curl his lips. "Tell me how it is that I can never stay angry with you?"

"I'm charming, sexy and …" Whatever else Anders had been about to say was silenced by Cullen's hungry kiss; the mage letting out a soft, happy moan.

_I think now would be a good time to interrupt._ Grace slowly opened her eyes. _It really is Cullen_. She shifted slightly almost smiling as both men flew apart.

"How is my patient today?" Anders voice was gentle, though she sensed his tension.

"I feel like I've been hit by an ogre." She groaned stretching back her shoulders. "But at least I feel." Cullen's look was one of curiosity. "Sorry for stealing Anders, I was a bit clingy after the whole being made tranquil thing wore off. He was going to leave; that he is still here is my fault."

Anders flushed and glanced to Cullen who rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm assuming you heard all of that." Cullen's tone was gentle.

"From the part about Anders having wandering eyes."

Anders looked as though he wanted the ground to swallow him. "Grace I'm sorry I shouldn't have …"

"Don't worry about it Anders I'm a big girl I think its Cullen you need to worry about."

"I'm used to him." Cullen said at last. "But it saddens me I'm just not enough for our runaway mage." He placed his hand over his heart gently mocking his lover.

"You're more than enough man for me." Anders said grinning "But sometimes a beautiful woman is just what a man needs."

Grace and Cullen pushed him at the same time sending him sprawling on the floor. _Maker he's cute_. He was propped up on his elbows grinning at them both. _Cute; but attached, just my luck! _Glancing at Cullen she saw a faint twinkle in his eye. _At least he isn't glaring_. "A mage and a Templar, together. It's not every day you see that."

Anders glanced at Cullen and gave his lover a sweet smile. "It's not the norm, but we manage." He was relieved to see warmth flood Cullen's eyes.

Grace stood, stretching her cramped muscles and moved to the tent entrance. "I'll leave you two alone then."

Cullen elbowed Anders glancing meaningfully to Grace.

"Grace wait." Anders moved over and clasped her hands. "I'm sorry, for everything."

Grace gave a sad smile. "Me too."


	8. Life After Tranquillity

As Grace left the tent she was stunned by how bright everything seemed. Sunlight glinted intensely from the steel in the weapons rack; from armour freshly polished, reflecting from the water lying in buckets near the bathing tent. She winced and narrowed her eyes against the intensity of the myriad of colours that assaulted her eyes. Noises too seemed overly loud. The chattering of men as they sharpened their blades; the clash of steel on steel as warriors and rogues practised, the soft laughter of men and women taking a brief moment of respite to relax.

Grace made it over to the wall and pressed her forehead against the cold stone as a particularly loud bird flew past screeching at her. Turning so her back was against the wall she slid down on to the cool grass that seemed to stab at the skin of her palms. Yelping softly she folded her hands on her lap and closed her eyes, waiting for the world to stop spinning. Her head felt too heavy for her neck and pulling her knees to her chest she rested her head in her hands, elbows balancing on her knees. Someone started yelling joined by course laughter. Grace clamped her hands over her ears; squeezing her eyes tighter, swallowing against the nausea slowly creeping up from the pit of her stomach. Her eyes were stinging and she realised that silent tears were leaving a wet trail down her cheeks. She had a fleeting recollection of home and longed for the king-sized bed with its soft sheets and warm duvet that she could crawl under and disappear. She remembered travelling to work; the laughter of friends, then it faded returning to background noise against the more vibrant Ferelden.

Her lips seemed to burn with her memory of Anders, humiliation making her cheeks flush. He was in the tent with Cullen and she was sitting out here feeling as though the bottom was about to drop out of her world. A deep ache settled in her heart. _Why did he have to kiss me? I'm such an idiot! _Her silent tears were of pain and regret and she pressed her face to her knees, wrapping her arms about her head desperate to block out the world around her. Everything seemed too intense for her to cope with.

Her forehead throbbed as her memory relived the rite and the subsequent agony, an echo of pain that would always be just below the surface. She was shaking, her limbs like ice as the walls of that prison closed in on her. Eyes flaring open she tried to calm her shuddering breaths, it was just a memory. From the corner of her eye she saw a flash of steel and burgundy cloth and tensed, her eyes seeking out the Templar. The panic eased, it was just a young elf carrying the bulky armour to be cleaned.

Taking a steadying breath she stood, her legs shaking and refusing to be still. Clutching the wall her stomach cramped and she groaned as bile tore up her throat, burning her mouth. Sinking back to her knees she clutched her stomach as the bile rose again. Leaning against the wall weakly she wondered if part of her would always be stuck in that dark well.

**xXx**

Gavarth and Treymour were practising; the rogue was so fast Grace wondered how the dwarf could block his blades. The two seemed evenly matched until Gavarth glanced in her direction. Treymour threw a punch that sent him to the floor. "You should know better than to get distracted." He chuckled pulling the dwarf to his feet.

"You try not getting distracted by her." Gavarth grumbled.

"Hi." She said with an awkward wave, startled when the Dwarf stalked over to her.

"Kneel down will you Kitten." She sighed good naturedly at the nick name she had inherited from her argument with the Teyrn and knelt. He gave her a rough hug and cleared his throat mumbling he had something in his eye. Treymour was grinning and hugged her as she got back to her feet.

"The Maker must be keeping an eye on you." Danforth said joining them and shaking his head, pulling her into a warm embrace.

She leaned for a moment against his broad chest, glad that they seemed prepared to forget her previous tantrum. "Yeh and laughing at my expense." She muttered too tired to hide the hint of bitterness.

"Bloody Templars." Gavarth muttered, "Present company accepted." He added as Cullen and Anders joined them.

Both men looked flushed and Grace groaned to herself. _I don't need this right now. _

"Grace I've been thinking." Anders stopped looking very uncomfortable.

_Why start now._ She thought a little harshly.

"Oh Maker save us, the mage has had a thought." Gavarth rumbled.

Anders laughed and returned his attention to Grace. "Maybe you should try to do some magic."

She caught his train of thought immediately. _Maker you really better not have messed with my magic!_

"Maybe just try something small."

She nodded and concentrated on making a tiny flame in the palm of her hand. It was like being made tranquil all over again. The stabbing pain shot through her forehead and she realised she had collapsed to her knees; gasping for breath, her fists clenched, her whole body shaking. Grace gritted her teeth. _Maybe it's like taking off a plaster, you just have to do it quick and all in one go_. She was aware her body tensed as she forced the magic to flow; her muscles protesting, her blood boiling. Golden energy surged around her making the men back off. Finally the pain began to ease and a soft throbbing took its place as the magic wound around her, reclaiming her. When she finally opened her eyes Anders was holding her gently and sent a regeneration spell through her. She felt her body soak up his magic, allowing her breath to return to normal. She was furious with herself as she leaned into his body, desperately wanting to stay in his embrace.

"I said something small!" Anders muttered in exasperation.

"Small hurt too much."

"Impressive use of magic for someone who was Tranquil yesterday."

The harsh voice was one Grace did not recognise and she glanced up watching a young man approach with Duncan. He was looking her over with curiosity. Feeling a little light headed she allowed Anders and surprisingly Cullen to help her get to her feet.

The young man looked her over again and then held out a hand. "I'm Aedan."

She took it and smiled_._ "I'm Grace. A sort of recruit."

Duncan grunted and had the good grace to look uncomfortable.

"Indeed." Aedan's gaze remained focused on her.

Grace waited patiently. "May I have my hand back?" She asked at last.

Gavarth snorted, struggling to hold back the laughter under Aedan's fierce glare.

"Of course. My apologies. I understand you are an apostate."

Grace eyed him warily. _Not another one!_

"I only mention it because I believe Cullen and myself were aided by your relatives."

"Relatives?"

"An older woman by the name of Flemeth and her daughter Morrigan. Forgive I me I just assumed, I have never seen golden eyes before meeting them."

Grace noticed Duncan's piercing look and the colour drained from her face. A multitude of thoughts rushed her at once. _Why isn't Morrigan with them? What if I've changed things so much she doesn't join the Wardens? If she's not there she can't offer the ritual. Would I really want the soul of an old god to be born?_

Aedan watched the conflict of emotions surface on her face and his recently acquired suspicious nature flared. His cough brought her attention back.

"I'm sorry I was just wondering what aid they gave you."

"Cullen and myself were badly wounded, thankfully Flemeth has great healing powers and we recovered quickly considering the extent of our wounds."

"Did Flemeth offer you any other help?" _Yeh, that doesn't sound suspicious at all!_

"She said the Wardens have as much help as she can offer at this time."

_Does that mean me I wonder?_ "I see."

"You clearly know Flemeth."

"I've met her before, briefly." She answered truthfully, biting her lip at the dark look crossing Aedan's face.

"How briefly?" His growl made her take a step back.

Aedan had moved towards her and the heat from his body seemed to scald her. His words were little more than a snarl and as she stared into his sapphire blue eyes she saw an emptiness that chilled her. '_He's damaged' _Anders words screamed in her mind. Her mouth was dry, forming words that she was unable to give voice to.

Aedan roughly gripped her arms. "How briefly?" He repeated.

His tone was asking something of her that she had no idea how to answer. Her world span again, his voice like hammers pounding at her skull and she felt bruised where his fingers were crushing the skin on her arms. "Does it matter?" She managed to say, her words sounding thick in her parched throat.

"It matters to me." He whispered his face almost touching hers.

Y_ou took down an ogre Grace, grow a backbone for Makers sake_. Swallowing hard she gathered her courage and managed to shake her arms free of his grip, her eyes narrowing. "Why? What business is it of yours?"

"Witches of the Wilds are notorious."

"They helped you!" She spat, suddenly furious that mages and witches were so badly thought of.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did they help us? Why did you join the battle?"

Grace took a deep breath, biting down her retort and looked at him as though he was a child. "The blight affects us all. Would you have us do nothing? Flemeth's reasons for doing things are her own. I joined the battle because to do otherwise was to die. If you have a problem with that, or my presence then I will happily leave and take my chances elsewhere."

Duncan placed a hand on Aedan's shoulder, drawing the young man back from Grace.

"I believe Duncan conscripted you." His eyes fixed on her menacingly. "Therefore you are not free to leave." His tone laced with bitterness.

Her fists clenched in undisguised rage. "It is my understanding that Duncan does not wish to make me a Warden." The Commander paled. "However if I am to stay I suggest you consider reviewing your current view of witches of the wilds, or apostates or whatever it is you assume I am. Or perhaps your view mirrors the delightful Travis and I am to be branded demon, or abomination." Aedan's shocked look made her realise he was unaware of what had transpired between them. She flexed her right hand unconsciously and shivered. _Flemeth I really am not cut out for this._

**xXx**

Duncan watched Grace throughout her exchange with Aedan. Her cheeks alternated between looking flushed with fever and pale with shock. Her hands were slightly shaking and she appeared to tense at each word spoken. If he didn't know any better he would have thought her suffering from the mother of all hangovers. "How are you feeling Grace?" He spoke at last.

"Fine." The response was automatic; she had no inclination to describe how she was feeling.

"Well apart from where you feel like you've been hit by an ogre." Anders injected teasingly.

Grace missed the pleading look he gave to Aedan. "There is that." She conceded with a grimace.

"Unfortunately Mother Lucia will allow no action to be taken on the Templars. She stated they were doing their duty."

Grace sighed expecting little else. She was aware of Anders spluttering furiously and wondered after all that he had experienced at the hands of the Chantry why this would surprise him.

"We will however have to discuss what to do now you are no longer tranquil." Grace looked at Duncan startled. "Not even being conscripted to the Wardens will save you if the Chantry finds you have somehow overcome their...rite. We will be leaving in a week. Prince Alistair has put certain measures in place to prevent any further issues with the Templars, but in the meantime we will have to remain vigilant." His face darkened at her haunted look.

**xXx**

Travis couldn't believe his eyes when a very non tranquil Grace crossed the camp and was now in discussion with Aedan and Duncan. Fear flared deep within him, terrified by the possibilities of the power she represented and the abomination she clearly was. He couldn't understand why Duncan allowed her to remain with them. As far as Travis was concerned she should either be in the Circle, or preferably dead. She was unnatural, her eyes betrayed her! His thoughts inevitably drifted to his family and his felt his heart spasm in grief.

_It had been a beautiful day, the kind of perfect day that lends itself to a fairy tale, but this story ended with the wicked witch winning. He had been laying on the riverbank, Mayri in his arms when he plucked up the courage to propose. He remembered her green eyes flashing with delight as he slid the ring on her finger, the feel of her hands clasped behind his neck as she pressed against him, laughing as they tumbled back onto the grass. He remembered the taste of strawberries on her lips, and the well of love that burst within him when she whispered sweetly in his ear. They had lain there for most of the day, basking in the rare undisturbed time they had managed to orchestrate. Hands linked they had returned to the village; the scent of smoke thick in the air, making their senses become alert to danger as they picked up their pace. Running, panic lending strength to their muscles they heard the crackle of flames on straw and wood. Mayri had screamed. Bodies littered the ground, their feet already sticky with the blood of the slaughtered. Travis remembered his father's face as the witch slit his throat, leeching the blood from his body with her foul magic. Her blond hair cut short to her head; golden eyes wild as the demon within her burst forth, her hands covered in the blood of his family. The energy bolt had left him unconscious and he believed the only reason he was alive today was because the witch thought him dead. He woke with Mayri's hand still clasped in his, but her emerald eyes gazed at him unseeing, the blood drained from her._

He shook himself as though the gesture could rid him of the truth of the memories. Duncan had found him a week later, killing Darkspawn with wild abandon. He had hoped to die so that he could be reunited with Mayri, but the Maker had not been so kind. He had survived the Joining and now he understood his purpose. He understood why the Maker had saved him. To make sure the abomination who now walked within the midst of the Wardens was stopped.


	9. Into The Wilds

Alistair moved swiftly to the Warden camp. A messenger had just informed him that Aedan and Cullen had returned and they were both alive. He had been friends with Aedan from childhood. They were both mischievous and had found their perfect match in each other. Constantly plaguing parents, servants and friends when they were together with whatever light hearted mischief they could conceive. Aedan had never once seemed bothered that Alistair was a bastard, once going so far as to tell the young prince that he saw him as a brother. As young adults they had different roles; different expectations, but nothing had distanced them, until Aedan had been conscripted on the night of his family's murder. Aedan had never gone into much detail in the six months since it had happened and Alistair had never known how to broach the subject without causing his friend further distress. The slaughter of the young Cousland's family weighed heavily on the young Prince. The Couslands had been like family to him and their deaths had hit him hard. He had urged Cailan to send troops after Howe, but the Blight had begun and all resources had been diverted. Alistair caught sight of Aedan and relief that he was alive overcame his fear of being rejected by his friend. He moved to Aedan hugging him tightly. "Thank the Maker you are alive."

Aedan froze. Having witnessed the slaughter of his family he now resisted all touch terrified of getting close to anyone and having them ripped from him. "I am well Alistair." He managed to get out, patting him awkwardly on the back.

Alistair pulled back, but kept his hands on Aedan's arms. "Where have you been?"

"We were injured and aided by a Witch."

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "Well I am thankful she saw fit to aid you."

Aedan flushed slightly glancing briefly in Grace's direction. "I am thankful too."

Alistair followed his glance to Grace feeling his stomach twist by how unwell she looked. "And you Grace, how are you feeling?"

"I've had better days your Highness."

"I would imagine so. I assume Duncan has made you aware of the Chantry situation."

"He has."

"We will be scouting in the Wilds for the next few days." Duncan stated. "The reports from the King's scouting parties and our own exploration of the Wilds have been disturbing."

Alistair frowned slightly. "Duncan forgive me, but is it really appropriate to be taking Grace into the Wilds so soon after such a traumatic event."

Duncan opened his mouth to speak, but Grace beat him to it.

"To be honest you Highness I would rather be occupied and I doubt there are many Templars wandering the Wilds."

"Of course." Alistair had no idea how she had overcome the Rite, to his knowledge and Wynne's it was the first time in Thedas's history that such a thing had happened and it had him extremely curious. He forced his attention back to Aedan. "It would be good to speak to you if you have a moment."

Aedan saw the pleading look in his eyes and nodded. "We are not leaving for the Wilds until midday; I will come with you now if you wish if Duncan is agreeable."

"Aedan you have just returned!" Alistair hissed, unable to hide the concern from his voice.

Aedan shrugged. "I am a Warden I have my duty, besides which like Grace I would rather be occupied."

Alistair nodded though did not look happy. Duncan had no objections and watched the two men heading in the direction of the royal tents before he turned his attention to getting his scouting party ready.

**xXx**

By early afternoon Grace found herself trekking through swamp. The icy wind seemed to penetrate all armour and clothing and thick droplets of rain had fallen since they had set out. After a brief rest the small party were relieved when the rain had stopped. Despite the weather conditions Grace had been pleased to be doing something other than training. The beauty of the Wilds was inescapable. A patchwork of greens and browns made up the landscape, with splashes of white and blues of tiny flowers. Birds flitted between the trees, their territorial songs filling the air with sweet music.

A small stream wound to the right of them and Grace felt herself drawn to it, her body tingling as she dipped her fingers into the water. Duncan pulled her back sharply, pointing to the taint that had already claimed the far bank. Grace felt shock prickle her skin at the oily film on the water she hadn't even noticed.

They had met few Darkspawn and those they did meet had been easily despatched. Instead of this being reassuring, the Wardens appeared more on edge and Grace was becoming nervous.

**xXx**

They set camp in the Warden Base ruins as darkness fell. Duncan and Aedan planned out their destination for the following day, while Anders and Cullen set up the tents.

Grace helped Gavarth with collecting wood for the fire. Her eyes were drawn to a raven sitting on a branch of the tree opposite her. Its golden eyes followed her as she gathered what dry sticks she could find. Grace glanced around her realising there was no one nearby, but still she kept her voice low. "Morrigan?" She glanced in annoyance when the bird ruffled its feathers and flew off.

As she sat eating her rations less than an hour later, she allowed her mind to wander to Flemeth. She couldn't understand why Flemeth had brought her here; she had been perfectly capable of saving the King herself if she had wanted to. More disturbing was the fact that Morrigan was not with the Wardens. Grace certainly could not perform the ritual and even if she could she wouldn't, so why then had Flemeth ensured that she was with the Wardens and not her daughter. Grace glanced out into the Wilds wishing she had some clue as to where Flemeth's hut would be. She needed answers and she would get none unless she spoke to Flemeth.

**xXx**

The second day of their scouting took them within view of a small hut and Aedan stated that it certainly looked like Flemeth's hut. Cullen recognised a particular tree in the vicinity confirming their suspicions.

Grace suddenly realised all eyes were on her. "I've never been here before. I met Flemeth in a cave and I have no idea where that is."

Duncan was extremely reluctant to approach the hut, however Grace needed to know what the hell was going on and moved through the foliage knocking loudly on the door. To her utter dismay there was no answer and the door was locked. _Damn it Flemeth where are you?_ She hesitated and then sighed. _Probably saving the Hawke's, but then where is Morrigan?_ Grace glanced around the trees her eyes landing on a Raven that cocked its head slightly before flying away. Grace watched the bird in frustration before returning to the others, it would seem she would get no answers today.

**xXx**

They set up camp as the last glimmers of light faded, the Wilds had been unexpectedly quiet and it had them all on edge. Grace woke up to shouting and rushing out of the tent she saw her companions holding down a struggling Duncan. His body fighting against their hold, his eyes tightly closed. He broke free of them, his body arching as he let out a strangled scream. The men flung themselves back on him again and finally he stopped fighting and opened his eyes. She shrank back into the tent at his look of terror that she felt sure he wouldn't want her to see. Heart pounding, she strained to hear to the quiet voices of the men.

"The Archdemon is restless." Duncan muttered "I'm not sure how much longer I can withstand the Call."

"We need you Duncan." Aedan gave a quiet plead to his Commander.

Duncan sighed and silence fell.

Grace slept little after that, trying to figure out a way she could help him.

**xXx**

Their party was quiet during breakfast and as they packed up the camp Grace was aware that Duncan was careful to avoid looking at her. She followed them as they set off through the trees, her mind still working out how to stall, or prevent his Calling. _Surly magic can help._ _I didn't save him just for him to become corrupted by the taint._ She was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of something large moving up ahead. They all crouched, slowly creeping forward. Her breath caught in her throat. Three huge Ogres flanked two Emissaries and at least twenty Genlock. She glanced at Duncan who motioned for them to move back. A branch cracked and Grace looked back startled. The raven; its golden eyes fixed on her, watched with interest. Grace glared at the bird before a loud snapping noise caught her attention. Horrified she watched as an Ogre crashed through the trees drawn by the noise and bellowed a challenge. The Wardens unsheathed swords and daggers, Anders gripped his staff, knuckles white. Grace watched in stunned horror as the Ogre reached for Cullen; time seemed to slow down, the huge hand with fingers the width of arms closed around his torso, pulling him towards its face, crushing and shaking him fiercely before throwing him. He hit a tree and lay unmoving. Anders agonised scream made her at last able to move as he ran to his fallen lover. She turned back and blasted the Ogre with ice, freezing it to the spot as Duncan plunged his sword through its throat. The fight had attracted the attention of the remaining Darkspawn and the Wardens moved to form a circle of protection around Cullen, as Anders continued to work on him. She glanced to Duncan and saw him calculating the odds.

"You're such a powerful mage." Aedan's fierce voice penetrated her panic. "Do something!"

_What the hell do I do? _Vines wrapping around a tree caught her attention. She fell to her knees and plunged her hands into the soil; her magic surging out, encouraging the roots of the various plants to extend towards the Darkspawn. The roots burst through the earth; spraying soil over the startled creatures, their grunts turning to shrieks as the roots coiled around them, slowly constricting and crushing them. As soon as her magic touched the Darkspawn it became difficult to think. A soft voice called to her; the words muffled, but the tone achingly beautiful. She leaned forward eager to hear the words that were just beyond her. She became aware of Duncan's battle cry and struggling to see through the fog of her mind she realised the Darkspawn had halted their assault, trapped by the roots and frozen as they too listened to the distant voice. Gavarth, Aedan and Duncan killed them all.

Gavarth moved to Grace's side. "It's over Kitten, you can stop now." His hand griped her shoulder as energy continued to pour from her. She was lost to the voice, barely hearing her friend. "Grace." He bellowed.

She forced herself to stop and slumped against him exhausted.

**xXx**

Alistair and Loghain stared in horror as the Warden's returned far earlier than expected. Grace was leaning heavily on Aedan and Cullen was cradled in Duncan's arms; while an exhausted Anders continued to send him healing magic, ghastly pale having consumed too many lyrium potions.

Alistair rushed forward. "Maker what happened?"

"Get Wynne." Duncan urged. "Cullen needs help."

Alistair turned to Loghain who was already sprinting towards the healer's tent.

"Bloody Ogre's." Gavarth spat. "If it wasn't for Kitten here we'd all be seeing the Maker right now."

The Wardens who had remained at camp rushed to their fallen brother, but moments later Wynne was shooshing them out the way as she moved to the unconscious man. "Let him rest." Wynne was saying as she strode over to Grace. "You too Anders." He gave her an exhausted look; his eyes red with tears, but refused to move. She looked over Grace frowning. "Just exhaustion with you too my dear. Prince Alistair would you mind taking her to her tent and let her sleep." Her look told Alistair to watch over her, then she returned to Cullen to begin her night vigil with the wounded Warden.

**xXx**

Alistair guided Grace to her tent; uncomfortable that Wynne had asked him to accompany her, though he thought he knew why. The Mother had been badgering Wynne about Grace and although the mage had been sworn to secrecy about Grace's apparent return from tranquillity it did not sit well with the Circle mage. She wanted someone other than a Warden to tell her what was happening with the apostate.

Grace sat on the edge of the cot and shivered. "I hesitated."

Alistair glanced at her in surprise, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.

"In the battle I didn't hesitate, I just did what had to be done. Yet when that ogre reached out and grabbed Cullen … I froze."

Alistair settled next to her. "Each fight, each battle is different. You did not know anyone in the battle; but you have got to know the Warden's, sometimes that makes it harder to react."

Grace glanced to him. "Shouldn't it make it easier? I mean I didn't want him to get hurt!"

"Gavarth said without you things would have been a lot worse."

Grace rubbed the back of her neck trying to ease the tension. "Maybe. If that bloody bird hadn't made that noise none of this would have happened."

He glanced at her feeling that same pull. Anders was right she was very easy on the eyes, but surely he wasn't having lustful thoughts about a mage. He glanced at the ground annoyed at himself. Mages were people like anyone else, but he had spent his whole life being told they were dangerous and to be feared. The Chantry saw Grace as a threat, but he had watched her and she had never displayed any hint of blood magic. He realised he had been looking at her lips for some time and hurriedly looked away. _Maker it is lust! _He remembered Anders smirk and flushed, he felt such a fool. He swallowed hard and stood putting distance between them. Grace didn't seem to notice, curling up on the side of the cot he had vacated craving the warmth he left behind and murmuring that she was just going to rest her eyes.

Alistair sank on to the ground and watched her as she slept. His mind tormented him; if Cailan was in his position he would probably have bedded her by now, but he was not Cailan and he had no intention of having meaningless sex, no matter how attractive he found the mage. Alistair rubbed his forehead; despite the horrors of battle it was a relief to be away from court and the women that were intent on ensnaring him. He might be a bastard, but he was still royalty and so his mother could be overlooked by nobles hungry for power and prestige. He shuddered at the thought of finally having to choose one of those women for his wife. Cailan had pointed out he only needed a wife to conceive a legitimate heir that did not mean he had to restrict himself to one woman, he certainly had not. Alistair knew his brother thought him a hopeless romantic for wanting to marry for love, but he still held out hope for the possibility. He glanced back to the mage and sighed; love was an issue for another day, his more pressing concern was how to ensure he did not embarrass himself with the physical manifestation of his current lustful thoughts.

**xXx**

Grace had barely slept for an hour; when she informed Alistair that she was going to see Cullen, hiding her surprise that the Prince had remained with her. The Ogre reaching for the Warden tormented her thoughts and she was furious that she had taken so long to act.

Alistair thought it best not to argue and supported her to the tent set aside for the injured, uncomfortably aware of how nicely she fitted against him.

Despite her exhaustion, Grace was determined she would do all she could to ensure Cullen lived. She wrapped her arms around Anders who was still awake, just staring at Cullen. He turned to her tears spilling down his cheeks and buried his face into her shoulder. She glanced at Wynne who indicated there had been no change.

Wynne confirmed Cullen had a head wound, four broken ribs, a broken leg, fractured arm and internal bleeding. "He has stopped responding to any healing magic."

Grace trembled as Anders clung to her a low wail shaking his body. "What does that mean?"

Wynne lowered her eyes to the unconscious man. "The Maker is calling him."

"No!" Anders wailed turning and clinging to Cullen's undamaged arm.

Grace felt her lip tremble and her breath catch as tears stung her eyes. "Wynne; Alistair, take Anders to get some food and rest. I'll watch Cullen."

"No, I'm not leaving him." Anders protested fiercely.

"I will call you if there is any change; you're no good to him like this." She looked to Alistair her eyes pleading; he gave a slight nod and gently pulled the distraught man to his feet, Wynne following them. Grace sat next to Cullen, her fingers gently running over his pale cheek. "Cullen I know we didn't get off to the best start, but you need to listen to me. Anders loves you and he needs you. You need to come back to him." He shifted slightly and gave a moan. Trembling she took a deep breath uncorked the small lyrium potion and drank its contents. _Please let this work._ She placed her hands over Cullen as Anders had shown her and let the healing magic flow.

**xXx**

Wynne was never sure why she looked back at the tent, but her heart almost stopped as she felt the raw energy that she associated with Grace. "You fool!" She hissed turning and running back. The energy had faded by the time they re-entered the tent. Wynne's gaze moved from Grace who was unconscious, to Cullen himself who was propped up on his elbows looking dazed.

Anders glanced to Grace in alarm before giving a cry of joy that made Cullen turn and he gave his lover a startled smile as he wrapped his arms around him, hugging him fiercely.

Alistair sank to his knees next to Grace. "Is she..." His words caught in his throat.

"She'll live. Makers breath I'll kill her myself when she wakes, she could have alerted every Templar to her with that stunt!"

"What happened?" Cullen's voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"You were hurt so badly." Anders explained kissing Cullen deeply, his lips barely breaking contact as he continued. "I thought I'd lost you."

Cullen sat up; stretching gingerly, holding onto Anders for support. "I think I'm fine." He croaked taking the water Wynne offered him. "Apart from feeling a bit stiff and having a headache."

"You have Grace to thank for that." Wynne murmured, quickly explaining his injuries. Cullen looked from Grace, to Wynne and back to Grace his mouth falling open.

**xXx**

Cullen held onto Anders as they went to the food tent, still weak but glad to be alive. It had been over seven hours since Grace had used her magic to bring him back from the brink of death and although she was still unconscious, Wynne had reported that she would be fine she was just exhausted. He had never felt surer of his place in the world, here with his brother Wardens and with Anders. He squeezed Anders hand. "She's tough, she'll be fine."

Anders nodded his face troubled. "I'm glad she did it." He whispered squeezing Cullen's hand. "But she was Tranquil only a few days ago, it was a big risk."

**xXx**

Wynne glanced to Grace as her eyes opened and she gave a groan as she sat up. Wynne folded her arms fixing her with a piercing look. "That was ill advised."

Grace winced. "You said he was going to die. I had to try. If I had acted sooner he may not have been hurt at all."

Wynne pursed her lips. "You take down one ogre in the heat of battle and think you can do the same at any time?"

"Well, yes."

Wynne shook her head. "Tell me, how much training have you had with battle magic?"

Grace grimaced realising a lecture was on the way. "Anders and I practice every day."

Wynne softened her look and settled next to the young mage. "Grace the Darkspawn are a terrible enemy and none of us know how we will react when faced with such creatures. I have seen the most hardened warrior turn and run."

"I can't afford to freeze, not to mention I didn't freeze in the big battle."

Wynne patted her shoulder. "But you did act; some might have frozen completely and paid the ultimate price." Wynne took Grace's hands running her thumbs over the smooth skin. "You have never seen battle before this have you?"

Grace shook her head. "At least not that I can remember."

"Flemeth should have trained you better."

Grace raised her eyes startled. "There was no time."

Wynne raised an eyebrow. "Grace why do you persist in denying that you are a Witch of the Wilds. I do not agree with such a life, but I also understand that the Circle is not necessarily the answer either."

"Wynne, I'm not a Witch of the Wilds."

The older woman sighed. "Persist if you must my dear, your past is your own."

Grace watched Wynne leave the tent feeling utterly frustrated. _That would be fine if I could remember more than just fragments!_


	10. Courting Of A Mage

Grace made her way to the main tent feeling ravenous. She was yawning as she entered, retrieving some bread and cheese from the supply chest and sitting on the bench. She glanced up realising someone had sat next to her.

Cullen smiled warmly. "I owe you my life."

"I'm just sorry I didn't act sooner with the ogre."

He shifted slightly; his ribs though healed were still aching. "You performed some unusual magic by all accounts. Gavarth was a little worried about you out there."

Grace eyed him suspiciously. "So they sent the Templar to figure out if I'm what … an abomination?" She snapped.

Cullen's eyes widened. "No! I simply wished to thank you."

Grace put down the bread and turned to face him, her tone softening. "Cullen, has anyone ever come back from being tranquil?"

"No. Not to my knowledge. The Rite of Tranquility severs the mages connection to the Fade. How you regained that connection the Maker only knows." He shifted again wincing slightly. "How do you feel?"

"I don't really feel any different to how I felt before; the increased sensitivity has eased at least, but I guess I will have flashbacks for a while."

"The Rite is not supposed to be traumatic."

Grace felt a stab of anger and stood her fists clenched. "Well it is. Please excuse me." She hurried from the tent moving swiftly passed a startled Anders and headed to the training area.

Anders glanced to Cullen as he moved out of the tent. "Is everything okay?"

"I think it may be a while before she trusts me, if she ever does."

"_You_ didn't make her tranquil."

"No; but consider yourself in her place, would you be comfortable around me?"

Anders sighed. "Maybe I should go talk to her."

"Don't force this Anders. She saved me despite my Templar background, maybe that's enough."

**xXx**

"Are you recovered?"

Grace looked at Alistair surprised by his silent approach. She cleared her throat and forced a smile. "I'm quite recovered. Thank you your Highness."

He recognised the forced words and frowned. "You were exhausted and yet you deliberately performed magic that would tax you beyond your endurance."

Grace sighed and leant against the wall. "I wanted to help him."

"And that is honourable; but not only did your risk your own health; you risked detection from the Templars." He gave a low sigh. "I myself risked my brother's displeasure in putting in place measures to keep you safe. I would prefer if you did not flaunt the leniency he is showing."

Grace flushed. "I'm sorry I didn't think … I apologise your Highness."

Alistair took a step forward and gently tilted her chin until their eyes locked. His stomach knotted. _Maker you are beautiful_. "Well; as there are no Templars surrounding the camp, I think we can safely assume your magic went undetected. Just be a little more careful in future, please."

Grace could barely breathe; her heart pounding almost painfully, all she wanted to do was reach up and kiss him. Flushing she moved slightly, Alistair's arm falling to his side. "I will your Highness. I um … I haven't thanked you for your help with the Templars. Anders said you knocked out three of them."

"Two." Alistair said with a boyish grin. "But I broke the nose of the third."

"Wish I'd seen that." Grace trembled when Alistair took her hands into his; they were calloused, his knuckles bruised and cut, but they held her hands gently, their warmth soothing.

"I am sorry I did not get there sooner."

Grace licked her lips nervously; it felt right with her hands in his and she felt a pang of disappointment as he squeezed her hands and then let go.

"I think given you seem to have an extraordinary ability to get into trouble we should make sure you can defend yourself without the aid of magic."

Grace could feel the flush of her cheeks deepen. "That … that would actually be really great."

Alistair grinned. "I am not just an incredibly handsome Prince. I do have the occasional good idea."

Grace chuckled. "Modest too it would seem."

Alistair felt his own cheeks burn and ran his fingers through his hair. _I am giving her the wrong impression of me. Why would it matter, it is not as if anything can happen between us. But it does matter. _"Come, I will show you how not to get your hand broken when in a fight."

Grace's eyes widened. "If you weren't a Prince I would slap you for that!" She teased.

Alistair chuckled. "Then for once I am glad I am a Prince." He flushed at the startled look on her face. "Come, we have work to do."

**xXx**

Grace found herself in Alistair's company every day for the next four days. The Wardens continued to scout out the Darkspawn movements, but Duncan informed Grace she would not be returning to the Wilds. She wasn't sure what to make of it, but Duncan's stern face dissuaded her from asking why.

Alistair was a hard task master. However, she was a quick study and he was impressed that she picked up the skills. She was not as strong as Alistair of course, but she was more agile. The Wardens would watch as the Prince and mage fought each other, spending hours perfecting her technique. Sometimes they would join in to give her the opportunity to face opponents with different skills. Thankfully Travis never made an appearance at her training. Grace enjoyed the training sessions, but hoped she would never have to put the skills she was learning into practice, at least with magic she could keep some distance from those she was killing.

Cailan on occasion would also watch their sparring. His gaze was affectionate towards Alistair, but he seemed to be searching for something when he looked at Grace. He never spoke to her and rarely stayed to the end of their sparring. If he did it was to take his brother with him.

Grace was startled that the King was involved in shielding her from the Templars and wondered why Alistair was going to such lengths to protect her. This only increased her attraction to Ferelden's Prince and it was becoming increasingly harder to hide.

**xXx**

Alistair absently swirled the wine in the goblet, unaware that his brother was watching him intently.

"What have you set your mind on this time brother?" Cailan asked curiously.

Alistair looked up startled. "What?"

"You have that look."

"What look?"

Cailan arched his eyebrow and gave his brother the 'older brother look'.

Alistair grinned and shrugged.

"Come now brother, we do not keep secrets."

"That you know." Alistair muttered teasingly.

Cailan's eyes suddenly lit up and he was across the tent and sitting in front of his brother.

"Who is she?" The flush starting to burn his brother's cheeks told Cailan he had hit his mark.

Alistair remained silent, his gaze returning to the wine.

Cailan relaxed; knowing he would have to take his time in getting his brother to open up, despite his front Alistair could be painfully shy when it came to the opposite sex. He poured them both more wine and took a sip allowing the sweet taste to wash over his tongue. "Anora is driving me crazy." Cailan volunteered, deciding he would have to do this the long way.

Alistair looked up curiously; it was no secret that he was not Anora's biggest fan. She had made it very clear that being Cailan's half-brother just did not make him Royal enough. He tended to avoid her as much as possible. "Why?" He asked keeping his tone even. Despite Cailan being the older brother, Alistair was fiercely protective.

"The nobles are becoming more outspoken about..." He suddenly hesitated; this was not where he had intended to go with this conversation.

Alistair looked up in concern. "About what?"

Cailan felt the overwhelming need to talk and he bowed his head in defeat. "About us not having a child yet." He heard the growl in Alistair's throat and smiled "I am sure I am supposed to be the protective one."

"Tell the nobles to get stuffed." Alistair hissed angrily.

"Alistair what if … what if we cannot have children. We have been married five years now. It is not as though we are not enthusiastic in the bedroom." He felt his brother flush and looked up grinning. "You embarrass too easily brother."

Alistair shrugged again and took a sip of the wine, barely registering the taste. "What are you going to do?"

"Maker help me Alistair I have no idea. Despite her being a huge pain in the ass I love the woman and have no intention of having our marriage annulled. Even Eamon is pushing me to set her aside. She knows Alistair; saw the letter that fool sent me. She was furious. I know there is no love lost between you brother, but despite our arguments we do love each other."

Alistair smiled sadly wondering not for the first time how he could declare his love while frequently sharing the bed of other women. "I will back you whatever you do, you know that."

Cailan squeezed Alistair's shoulder affectionately and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes and sighing. Cailan missed his brother's next sentence his voice was so low and had to strain to hear him.

"She...she is stunning. I have never met anyone like her." Alistair spoke shyly; not looking at his brother, staring instead back to the wine.

Cailan smiled to himself but remained serious. "And?" He said in exasperation after the silence continued for several minutes. "Who is she?"

"Grace." The name fell from Alistair's lips in a husky breath.

Cailan paled, his heart thumping with a lurch of panic. "Brother she is a mage, a dangerous one given she somehow managed to overcome the Rite of Tranquillity. You know you can never be with her." He could have cut out his tongue as soon as he said the words as his brother's face fell and he closed down again. "Alistair I..."

"No you are right." Alistair cut him off. "I was stupid to even consider it, but then that is me." Alistair rose to his feet wretched.

"Alistair please." Cailan reached for his brother who had his back to him; his fists clenched his throat constricting.

"What?"

Cailan froze at the anguish in his brother's voice.

"You think you are the only one hounded to do things you do not wish to do?" Alistair turned to him then and Cailan was horrified to see his brother's eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I am constantly reminded I am the bastard Prince, that I am not good enough." Even Alistair was shocked by the bitterness in his own voice. "But I am still supposed to get married and have heirs just in case you do not. I have never been good enough. I have spent my whole life being punished because my father dared to be with someone else, after his wife died!"

Cailan winced at the mention of his mother's death; but hugged Alistair to him fiercely, relieved when his brother relaxed against him. Cailan bit his lip nervously and pulled back, his hands holding tightly to Alistair's arms. "I know you brother; you have never shown interest in any woman or man that I know of." He smiled at the deep flush on his cheeks. "You have a poet's heart and you are waiting for the right one, but Alistair this mage is not the right one. If it was merely lust you needed to sate I would suggest bedding her and be done with it, but you will bring feelings into it. Alistair, you are a Prince of Ferelden and you have a duty. I wish it could be otherwise, but it cannot. I ask you as your brother to keep your distance from her. If she has awakened desires in you then believe me there are no shortage of women who would help you sate them."

Alistair pulled away frowning; his desires had been woken long ago, but he had enough will power not to act on them. "Cailan I do not wish to lay with a whore."

Cailan grinned and gripped his brother's neck pressing their foreheads together. "Who mentioned whores? Believe me Alistair, there are noble women who would lay with you just as easily."

"Yes and I would be expected to marry whoever she was."

Cailan squeezed his neck slightly. "You cannot hide from court forever Alistair, your absence this past year has been notable." He raised his hand as Alistair started to protest. "I know the work you have been doing with the soldiers, but once this Blight is over Alistair you must take a wife."

Alistair gave a tormented sigh. "Maker with that thought to take to bed I need something stronger than wine."

Cailan chuckled and retrieved a bottle of Antivan brandy. "Tonight we will toast to your current liberty and the lucky women who finally relieves you of your virginity."

Alistair felt the heat radiate from his face and downed the brandy in a single gulp. "Maybe just give me the bottle." He muttered.

**xXx**

Alistair grunted as Grace repelled his attack and he staggered backwards. "Hey no magic." He grumbled. He was deliberately disobeying his brother by continuing their training sessions, but he had lain awake long into the night and decided spending time with her even simply training was worth risking his brothers displeasure.

"Let's take a break I'm hot and thirsty."

He nodded relieved, taking off his plate armour and tunic to allow him to cool down.

Grace returned with water and froze her mouth gaping open. Alistair was beyond delicious. His tanned torso rippled with muscles and had a light dusting of golden hair that disappeared beneath the band of his breeches. She was aware that her heart was racing. _Now he's just flaunting himself. _She handed over the water and flushed at his grin, turning her back to him taking a drink. Grace let out a slight groan, Anders and Cullen were watching and Anders had that knowing look plastered on his face. Grace had not confirmed his suspicion that she had a growing affection for the prince, but she hadn't denied it either.

"Ready?"

Grace turned around startled. "Really; you're going to fight like that, no armour."

"It is too hot."

"As you wish your Highness; as long as I am not executed when I end up hurting you." She could feel her cheeks burn at his chuckle. The next ten minutes were excruciating, she could barely concentrate. _Does he have to look so damn good and how can he smell so good when he's sweaty_! She ducked his sword and leapt back out of the path of his shield. _Maker that was close. Concentrate! _She defended herself again; but this time lost her footing, slamming into the ground. She kicked his legs from under him and scrabbled over straddling him and pressing her sword to his throat. "Yield!" She commanded. Grace was suddenly aware of his hands on her hips and just what position they were in. "Yield!" She repeated, her voice sounding shaky even to her ears.

Alistair swallowed struggling to speak; he had unconsciously moved his hands to her hips warmth filling his body. His cheeks reddened as he felt the unmistakable result of his lustful thoughts, his eyes locking with her, Grace's eyes widening a flush moving across her cheeks.

Grace became perfectly still before giving an embarrassed smile. "Thank you for the training, your Highness." She glanced pointedly at his hands relieved when he let go. She scrambled backwards and got to her feet hoping she looked more dignified than she felt. "I should … um … okay then. See you tomorrow." Grace headed in the direction of her tent. _Well that wasn't embarrassing at all!_

**xXx**

Alistair ran his fingers through his tussled hair, watching Grace's retreat.

Aedan glanced to Alistair in surprise seeing only trouble ahead for him. "You have interesting taste my friend."

Alistair grinned and took a drink of water. "I cannot disagree."

"I would suggest looking elsewhere."

"Maker you sound like my brother."

Aedan raised an eyebrow remembering how they would mock their brothers when they were younger. "Really?"

"He has already told me to stay away from her and after this Blight I need to choose a wife or I imagine he will choose one for me."

"Join the Wardens there are no such restrictions." Aedan teased.

Alistair chuckled. "I think it would be a better fate than marriage to some Maker awful noble."

"You really like her?"

Alistair nodded taking another drink of water. "For my sins."

"Well you could do what I did with Marian at that summer ball and just march up and kiss her."

Alistair grinned remembering the event well; they had been inseparable for two years after that. "And what of my brother?"

Aedan leaned in close. "What he does not know will not hurt him, besides she might turn you down."

Alistair gave him a shove and picking up his tunic he headed off in the direction of Grace's tent.

**xXx**

Grace groaned when she heard someone enter the tent praying it wasn't Anders come to tease her and span around staring at Alistair his tunic still in his hands. _Maker save me._ "How can I help you your Highness?" Grace swallowed nervously, his look was searching and he was moving closer to her. The heat from his body made her tingle and she was finding it hard to breathe. His hand moved slowly up her arm, lightly resting on her jaw an unspoken request in his eyes.

Alistair slowly leaned towards her, his lips lightly brushing hers, his kiss a gentle caress. When he felt her relax and begin to respond Alistair pressed his lips a little harder, feeling her yield beneath him. His tongue gently grazed her lips, pushing slightly until he sank into the warmth of her mouth. His deep moan sent excitement coursing through her. Her kiss became fierce and he met her passion with his own; pulling her firmly against his body, his hands caressing her back. "Grace you are so beautiful." He whispered huskily; as her fingers caressed his neck, running through his hair as he softly kissed her throat. She whimpered as he ran his tongue over her ear. Pulling back slightly; he placed feather like kisses on her lips and jaw, his hands holding her tight to him.

Grace realised she was trembling, firming her resolve that she was not going any further than a kiss. "Alistair." She whispered smiling at his desire filled look. "Not that this isn't great, because …. umm … wow, but what are we doing?"

Alistair caught her lips in a tender kiss. "I am not sure what you call it, but I thought we were kissing."

Grace chuckled beneath his lips, pulling back slightly. "Smart ass."

Alistair chuckled before becoming serious. "Grace I like you and I want to get to know you, but you are a mage and this is forbidden by the Chantry and my brother."

Grace frowned in confusion. "Then why did you kiss me?"

Alistair gently titled her chin. "Because I have wanted to kiss you since we first met and I am growing very weary of everyone else telling me how to live my life."

Grace gently ran her fingers down his jaw. "What happens if your brother finds out you kissed me?"

Alistair gave her a mischievous grin. "I have no intention of him finding out." He kissed her hungrily.

Grace pulled back again. "Alistair if you think I'm just going to hop into bed with you because you're a prince you are sadly mistaken."

Alistair's eyes widened. "No! Maker I am doing this wrong. Grace I am not my brother. I mean I would like to, eventually, but I don't expect …."

Grace hushed him with a kiss unable to contain her grin. "Alistair relax. I guess we can see what happens between us and figure it out as we go."

Alistair grinned. "Really?"

Grace chuckled. "Really." Her breath taken away as Alistair's lips crashed against hers, his hands tangling in her hair and caressing her jawline. Grace had the fleeting thought that if he kept kissing her the way he was, her resolve might not last.

**xXx**

Duncan had worked out a route to gather support, armed with the treaties retrieved prior to the battle. Just under half of the Wardens were to remain at Ostagar to monitor the Darkspawn. Duncan had decided that Aedan, Anders, Cullen, Gavarth, Danforth, Travis and Maverin would accompany him along with Grace to their first destination to search for the Dalish clans. He wanted particular supplies, which had influenced his decision. Grace had groaned inwardly at the news that Travis was to accompany them and all were surprised that Duncan should choose for the two to travel together. Although he did not mention it, Duncan had been startled himself when Travis had requested he join their company and he hoped that the journey would help to resolve their differences.

**xXx**

Alistair held Grace in his arms reluctant to let go knowing that she would be leaving the following morning. Their relationship was far too new for him to suggest staying the night in her tent, but that didn't stop him wanting to.

His reluctance to leave was obvious and Grace was happy to remain in his arms for as long as she could.

"No heroics, promise?" He murmured kissing her throat, smiling at the soft moans it elicited.

"Promise." She whispered, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. When they finally pulled apart she grinned at the dazed look on Alistair's face.

"Maker's breath Grace." He rested his forehead against hers, his hands resting on her waist.

"Umm."

"You should get to Redcliffe within the month assuming all goes well with the Dalish and I aim to be there to greet you."

"You'd better!"

"I have something for you."

She looked at him curiously a wicked grin playing on her lips. She laughed at his blush and kissed him gently.

"Here, do you know what this is?"

Grace froze at his words. Those words! Her heart pounded painfully and she realised she was trembling. She looked at his hand and frowned. "A dog collar. Your giving me a dog collar?" _Wasn't there supposed to be a rose! _

He laughed. "The collar is for the mabari I'm hoping will imprint with you." Her startled look made him smile and he kissed her gently. "I want you safe." He whispered. "Will you try?"

She nodded and followed him to the kennels. The mabari were huge and she was more than a little nervous, until she saw the mabari he was suggesting. He was huge; but as his brown eyes fixed on her, she felt her heart melt. She smiled approaching slowly.

"His name is Hunter."

Holding out her hand she whispered his name. The mabari strode forward wagging his tail.

"I think we'll get on just fine."


	11. The Line

The day had dawned bright and the air for once seemed clear. Duncan for the moment had pushed thoughts of his progressing taint from his mind and enjoyed the chatter of his companions as the heat of the sun slowly soaked into his bones. He ached, his whole body throbbed with the dark music and it was becoming harder to fight against that sweet call. His dreams haunted his waking moments and he struggled with his burden. He knew his time was almost over and he found he craved the release death would bring. He tugged absently on his beard and became aware that Grace was walking at his side, in silent contemplation of her own. He gave a side glance and felt warmth flood him. Her beautiful spirit shone from her and touched even his darkened heart. Her laughter was infectious and her temper terrifying. She was passionate; bold, courageous and the perfect Warden, except she wasn't and he had decided she never would be. He had subjected many people to the taint, but his whole body told him that if she took the joining she would die and they needed her unusual talents. He had been surprised with the addition of Hunter to the group, but no one in his right mind would object to a mabari. He turned his attention to road resuming his thoughts of the treaty and the Blight they faced.

**xXx**

Grace couldn't take her mind from Alistair.

_His kiss had been sweet, tender and loving that morning as they had said goodbye. It would only be a month, but it felt like a life time to be away from each other. "Be careful and stay safe." _

_Grace had held his hand; studying his face, memorising him. "You too." _

_He had grinned and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair so she wouldn't see his worried look. With a deep breath he pulled himself back under control and kissed her again before Anders was yelling at her to hurry up._

She was startled out of her memory as Anders moved to her side, Duncan having moved away to speak to Danforth.

"Thinking of Prince Alistair?"

"Maybe." She murmured evasively.

"Are you sure it's wise to get involved with him?" A frown darkened his eyes. "You're a mage, you must know that you..." He stopped abruptly.

"I must know what?"

"He could never acknowledge you publicly and he has a duty to produce heirs. That means with someone non magical."

Grace's face fell, knowing the truth of his words. "I know Anders it's just … I like him."

He draped his arm over her shoulders and placed a kiss on her cheek. "He's a lucky man." He whispered in her ear. "I just don't want your heart to get broken."

**xXx**

Several days of hard marching and Lothering finally appeared on the horizon. Their orders had been to resupply, briefly rest and meet by the mill before evening. Grace was fascinated by Lothering, so familiar and yet with subtle differences. While the others were bartering she moved away from the group deep in thought; Hunter remaining by her side, though his eyes looked wistfully towards Aedan's mabari Shadow. She giggled and stroked his ears, aware that Shadow was also watching Hunter. "I hope you're a gentleman Hunter." She whispered in his ear. Hunter wagged his tail and she could have sworn he was grinning. With Loghain in support of the Wardens there would be no death threats and so technically there would be no-one hunting for them. Confidently she entered the tavern wondering if she would find Leliana. Grace paled and realised that this world was very capable of throwing a curve ball or two. Instead of the Teyrns men there were four Templars, all heavily armed and all glaring at her. For a moment she froze and thought she would be sick.

The tallest strode forward and unsheathed his sword. "Apostate." He snarled.

_How do they know? Am I leaking magic or something!_ "Excuse me?"

"Apostate!" He hissed again, the blade of his sword now aimed at her throat.

Hunter growled deep in his throat, bearing his teeth and standing in front of her protectively.

"Gentlemen please, since when do mages wear armour and carry blades?"

Grace had never been so glad she had listened to Alistair and worn the armour he had given her as yet another parting gift. It was lightweight and easy to move in and if anything she resembled a rogue rather than a mage. She felt relief as Leliana moved in front of her to emphasise her words to the Templars; noting that she was also in light armour, rather than a Chantry robe.

The Templars were not so easily swayed.

**xXx**

"By the Paragons that girl finds trouble wherever she goes." Gavarth muttered unsheathing his sword.

The others looked up and saw Grace exiting the tavern with another red head and swiftly followed by four Templars, who were being held at a distance by Hunter who was snarling furiously. Her companion grabbed Grace's wrist and pulled her breaking into a run as they headed for the mill.

Grace felt the energy drain from her as a Smite hit her and she collapsed to her knees. _Damn it, I hate Templars!_ Hunter whined and nudged her in concern, barking loudly at the men as they approached.

Leliana unsheathed her daggers facing the oncoming Templars. Proving her usefulness to the group might not be as difficult as she anticipated. She glanced to Grace startled as she rose to her feet energy crackling around her. Leliana could not defend her against the Smite directed at her, but apparently she didn't need to.

Grace glared at the Templars wrapping herself in golden energy, the Smite dissipating harmlessly. _Wow I really am breaking all the rules._ She walked slowly to the Templars who were staring at her in alarm and placed her hand on the breast plate of the man who had held the sword to her throat. She momentarily wondered what it would be like to kill him, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. "Hasn't anyone told you to play nice with mages?" She said softly as she sent a short burst of lightening through his body, just enough to debilitate him. He collapsed to the floor curled up in pain. She turned her attention to the remaining three and watched as they backed away from her.

"Mages are meant to serve not rule." A terrified Templar shrieked.

"And just what is it you think I'm attempting to rule?" She hissed, lightening flickering in her hands scorching the ground in front of them, her face flushed with anger.

Duncan watched Grace as she faced the three Templars, apparently undaunted despite her recent experience and not for the first time thanked the Maker she was on the same side as him.

"Andraste's knickers." Anders muttered. "I've never seen anything so sexy."

"She's a bloody menace." Travis hissed, glaring at him.

"Mages are not the enemy." Grace said gently, her anger draining. "You are meant to protect not harm, now return to your Chantry and leave me alone." The Templars picked their fallen comrade and hurried away. _Wow, didn't expect them to actually leave_. Grace bit her lip as her companions approached. Duncan gave her _that look_ and she gave a deep sigh. "Duncan if one more Templar Smite's me I'm going to totally lose it!"

"That wasn't losing it?" His eyebrow raised in mock surprise.

"Of course not, they'd be charred Templar if I had."

Anders pulled her into a hug. "My hero." He laughed. Travis made a strangled noise and Cullen rolled his eyes allowing a slight smile to curl the corners of his lips.

"That was quite something."

Grace turned to face Leliana and grinned. "I'm Grace." She extended her hand and felt relief when Leliana grasped her hand firmly, a smile lighting her own features.

"I am Leliana. I had hoped we would avoid a confrontation, but I would not be completely adverse to a charred Templar or two." Grace's mouth fell open. Leliana turned her attention to Duncan. "You are Wardens yes?" Duncan nodded. "I would like to help you."

Grace looked at the woman carefully. _No mention of the Maker then_. So many things had been different, would the same be true for Leliana.

"What skills do you have?" Duncan asked impressed that she had been prepared to defend a mage she did not know.

"I am a proficient archer and am skilled with other rogue talents."

"Lock picking, poisons?" He continued.

"Amongst others."

"I would imagine Leliana your skills would be rather useful." Duncan agreed. "Very well; you may travel with us, for the time being." If she had of been a man he would have recruited her immediately, however he only ever recruited women out of necessity as in Grace's case.

Leliana smiled graciously and Grace felt an excited tickle in her stomach. Her excitement halted abruptly when she looked towards a cage positioned at the end of the buildings. The Qunari was crouched low on the floor in what looked to be an extremely uncomfortable position. Grace cautiously approached the cage. "Sten?"

"It is a waste." Leliana muttered joining her.

Grace looked at her uncomprehending and yelped as the Qunari fell forward. His head twisted at an unnatural angle, his eyes unseeing. Grace turned away her face pale, suddenly feeling that she had failed.

**xXx**

Leliana smiled as she finished the tale. Grace's eyes had never left her and she seemed enchanted. Her mood had been low since she had seen the dead Qunari and the bard was quite pleased she had offered some relief from whatever dark thoughts consumed her.

Marjolaine would be pleased she had managed to join the Warden group so easily. She had no doubt she could seduce the youngest Cousland who was her intended target and the other men would be putty in her hands, but this woman she was not so sure about. She determined to find out as much about her as she could.

As Leliana sat by the campfire Grace approached Cullen. He was startled by her worried look and surprised when she deliberately sat next to him.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Do I leak magic?"

Shaking his head he suppressed the grin. "Not that I've ever noticed."

"If you didn't know me would you know I'm a mage?"

"I can feel that you have magic, yes."

She worried at her lip. "It was like they were waiting for me."

Cullen noticed for the first time how scared she looked.

"What if the Chantry knows that ... that what they did was unsuccessful?"

The fear was clear in her soft voice and he moved forward wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

Grace tensed at his touch and he slowly pulled away. She looked up, her lip trembling. "I can't go through that again Cullen." She hugged her knees to her chest blinking her eyes fiercely to stop her tears. "I'd rather die."

Hunter gave a small whine and nudged her hand with his nose.

Cullen had no idea what to say. He had never been involved in the Rite himself, but he had certainly never heard of it causing the person pain and he had never heard of it failing. She stood then, giving him an awkward smile and retreated to her tent.

Hunter gave him a searching look then followed her.

**xXx**

Duncan took first watch as the others settled down to get some sleep. He was half way through his shift when Grace sat next to him, staring into the night sky. Her face was pale, but she had that determined look on her face that filled him with equal measures of pride and alarm.

"Duncan, your Calling is near isn't it?" The sharp intake of breath made Grace bite her lip. Silence fell between them. She looked at him after several moments had passed, his dark eyes flashing.

"Maybe I can help." Her voice was so soft he had to lean closer to hear her. "We need you Duncan." she hurried on. "The Warden's need you and I hate seeing you suffer."

"This is none of your concern." He growled making her freeze. He rose and walked away from her and only then she let out the breath she hadn't realised she was holding.

Anders stared surprised at the angry glare Duncan gave Grace as he walked away from her. Her shoulders slumped, but she remained where she was. He crossed the camp and sat next to her. She gave him a forced smile and he wrapped his arm around her pulling her close. "What's going on?"

"I guess I just crossed the line." She sighed resting her head on his shoulder.


	12. To Change A Calling

Grace did not approach Duncan the following day. He was still furious and ignored her to the surprise of his fellow Wardens. She found herself falling into step with Leliana who eyed her curiously.

"A lovers tiff?"

Grace almost choked. "No. Absolutely not. What on earth made you think that?"

"Forgive me I just assumed."

"I simply made an offer Duncan took offence to." Leliana narrowed her eyes. "It's complicated. Anyway it doesn't matter now. I'll find some way to make it up to him. Besides, talking of lovers I see you have your eye on Aedan." Leliana gasped; sure she had been extremely discrete in her assessment of her target. "You can't hide the little glances you keep giving him and just so you know, he keeps looking at you too." She grinned as Leliana blushed. Hunter nudged her leg and she smiled. "We'll see Alistair at Redcliffe." Hunter barked happily and ran off towards Shadow.

"Alistair?"

"Mmm, Alistair." She glanced at Leliana who was watching her curiously. "A friend." She said mischievously.

**xXx**

Duncan could barely contain his anger and was grateful Grace was keeping her distance. Her words had haunted him throughout the night. He didn't want to live with the taint any more. He had done his share of the work and it was up to others now. His thoughts grew darker and the taint seemed to replace even his blood, the dark stains on his arms spreading further. His sleep had been more tormented than ever and he had woke once more to being held down by his fellow Wardens so he did not hurt himself as he thrashed in his nightmares. His waking moments were little better, the song flooded his senses and he was barely able to think. Travis had mentioned something about her being properly leashed; though he had paid little attention, eager for sleep to fold him into the waiting arms of the song.

"What's up boss?" He gave Gavarth a weary glance and shook his head. "Come on, you can tell me."

"Someone has been talking to Grace about the Calling. Anders no doubt."

Gavarth whistled between his teeth, stroking his beard. "I think you are way off this time Duncan, I can't see Anders saying anything."

Duncan sighed, knowing in his heart Gavarth was right. "No matter. She offered to try and help me." Duncan rubbed his forehead at his friend's questioning glance.

"She has a bunch of weird ass magical talents we've never seen before and let me guess you turned her down because you're pissed she knows about the Calling."

"Pretty much."

"Stop being an ass Duncan. The girl just wants to help. By the Paragon's if she offered that to me I'd snatch her hand off."

"We can't avoid our fate Gavarth."

"Whatever keeps me killing those bastards longer I'll take." There was fire in his eyes as he remembered those who had fallen.

"I'm tired." Duncan whispered. "It's getting too hard; I want an end to it."

Gavarth cleared his throat and nodded. "Hope you change your mind boss, wouldn't be the same without you."

Duncan gave a grim smile and glanced over to Grace who was in deep conversation with Leliana.

**xXx**

During the journey Leliana had spoken to most of the Wardens. The odd word here and there; an innocent question or two, that yielded annoyingly very little. No one seemed to know much about Grace. "People do not just appear." She had commented to Anders who seemed the most eager to talk about her.

"Grace did, like some fiery angel sent from the Maker himself."

Leliana raised an eyebrow and smiled. "You could make a minstrel yourself."

Anders laughed. "Yes the mage minstrel Warden. Maybe not, I'll let you stick to the stories."

"Hmmm, let's see. The fiery angel strode onto the battlefield rending the Darkspawn to ashes."

"Not forgetting healing everyone who was left." Anders added.

"Defender of the Wardens." Gavarth chuckled. "When she isn't annoyed with them."

"Defeater of Tranquillity." Aedan included before groaning at Ander's fierce look at his blunder. "Leliana that must never be repeated, swear it."

Leliana glanced at him in shock. "Of course. I swear."

"You better add demon." Travis hissed storming passed.

"He's becoming a real problem." Cullen muttered; his eyes seeking out Grace who was some way behind, flanked on both sides by Hunter and Shadow completely absorbed in giving them treats.

**xXx**

Hunter gave a deep growl, Grace freezing and glancing into the trees that seemed to be a source of agitation for both mabari whose hackles were raised, teeth barred. Shadow gave a deep howl and darted to Aedan's side as Duncan yelled out that Darkspawn were near. Grace took a step forward trying to get a better look, but Hunter had a firm hold of her armour and was pulling her back. Arrows suddenly whistled through the air and Darkspawn burst from the undergrowth. Grace quickly erected defence shields around herself and her companions. The Wardens unsheathed their weapons hurtling into battle, Leliana firing arrows with deadly accuracy, but Grace's eyes had locked with the Emissary. Fire flared in her hands before it turned and ran. Startled Grace ran after it, fearing that it was going for reinforcements. Branches lashed her body as she ran passed, jumping over logs and avoiding the various obstacles littering the woodland floor. It was moving just ahead of her and she forced her burning lungs and aching muscles to keep going. They burst out of the tree line and she saw the Emissary head for a cave in the rock face that loomed to her left. She manifested rocks, hurling them not at the Darkspawn, but at the cave entrance effectively blocking it. It turned with a scream of rage and hurled a bolt of energy at her. She ducked and hurled her own energy bolt, crying out as Hunter hurtled past her slamming into the Darkspawn. He gave a yelp as he was hit with a savage blow. Grace gave a snarl of rage and manifested a huge boulder she fired at the Darkspawn crushing it into the ground. She raced over to Hunter checking him for wounds, relieved that he was unhurt and crossly telling him never to scare her like that again. He of course gave her the look that reminded her he was a war dog and her safety was his job. Duncan had been furious about her running off and had yelled at her for thirty minutes straight. Grace glanced at Hunter and was convinced he had a smug grin on his face.

"Reckless or courageous?" Leliana whispered to Anders.

"Probably a bit of both." He replied with a chuckle.

**xXx**

Grace woke up hearing Duncan's screams. _Enough is enough!_ She stormed out of her tent and stared in dismay. Most nights Anders cast a sleeping spell so Leliana would not be woken by what occurred, but he must have forgotten as the woman was staring in horror at the writhing man.

Aedan glanced at Grace, anguish written on his face. "Do something." He pleaded.

"What is it you expect me to do?" She hissed back in frustration.

"Whatever it is you do!"

"Oh gee, that's helpful Aedan." She glanced at Duncan her mind spinning.

Gavarth moved towards her. "You told him you would try to help; whatever you had in mind now would be a good time."

"He didn't want me to try." She whispered suddenly aware all eyes were on her.

"Listen to me carefully Kitten, he's just pissed one of these nug humpers couldn't keep their mouths shut about the Calling. _I'm_ asking you to try."

"No one told me about it." Surprise clear on her face. "I overheard Duncan saying when we were in the Wilds."

Gavarth let out a low groan. "Please Kitten."

She glanced at Duncan; the sweat beading his face, the dark stains reaching his hands, his face tight with pain. "I don't know what I'm doing." Panic filling her voice.

Cullen rested a hand on her shoulder. "Use your imagination, isn't that what you usually do? I don't pretend to understand your magic Grace, but we really need you to try. If it doesn't work no-one will blame you."

"Here." Anders tossed her a lyrium potion. "It might help."

She glanced at Gavarth. "If he kills me for this I'm coming back to haunt you!" She knelt at Duncan's head, grimaced at the bitter liquid and placed her hands on his temples. She closed her eyes and extended her magic. It was like hitting a brick wall. She searched for a way in and found a spot where the energy was more like sludge and concentrated her magic there. As she broke through her mind retreated in horror as the song washed over her, stabbing her with icy claws. She gave a choked cry and struggled to release herself; but the taint held her, surging through her, filling her with its sickening presence. Gritting her teeth she threw it back. Her magic becoming white in its intensity, as hot to her as the taint was cold. She was aware of Duncan's moans of pain, but she refused to let go. She forced the energy through his body; moving through the thick black coils that penetrated his muscles, bones and blood. It was slow work to cleanse the taint it was so deep rooted and truth be told she really had no idea what she was doing, but finally the song became fainter and the black coils had transformed into greyish/silver strands that strengthened rather than debilitated.

The Warden's watched as the years fell from Duncan and the dark stains almost covering his arms began to recede. By the time Grace had cleansed his body and created within him the ability to use, but be truly resistant to the taint he was conscious and staring up at her.

She was ghastly pale, her eyes closed in concentration. Finally she pulled away, moving from him so quickly she stumbled.

Anders caught her, his blood freezing at the horror in her eyes.

She buried her head against his chest unable to bear the thought that her friends would have to experience what Duncan had. She ignored Anders startled cry as she slipped another lyrium potion from his robe and drank it before he could stop her, sending her magic to them all. It was easier with the others now that she knew what she was doing. Astonished they felt new strength fill them and with it a new ability to resist the ravages of the taint. She collapsed then, the song chasing her into the Fade.

**xXx**

_Grace knew she was in the Fade, but it was not a place she had ever seen. The plain stretched out for miles in every direction. The earth was so dry it had long since stopped being able to sustain life. The carcasses of dead trees were dotted across the landscape. Everything was a varying shade of brown, except for the sky which was crimson. A faint breeze teased her curls about her face and she caught the faint scent of smoke. Dread filled her heart, but she turned and followed the smell. The landscape shifted around her and she found herself looking on houses that were burning, and across from her own position was a palace in flames. "Denerim." A deafening roar sounded out and Grace watched in paralysed terror as a dragon settled down on a flaming tower, its eyes locking with hers._

"_**Ferelden is mine." **_

_The__ voice was like nails stabbing in her mind making her knees buckle and Grace began to scream._

**xXx**

Duncan had never felt so strong; capable or energised as the song had ebbed into the background, a slight irritation nothing more. He watched over Grace as she slept, concerned as she whimpered and clutched the blanket and he wondered curiously of what she dreamt.

As dawn broke Grace awoke with a scream, Hunter licked her hand gently pawing her arm. She shook her head, gave him a sad smile and pulled the mabari close. She lay still; unable to meet Duncan's eyes, anxiety robbing her of speech.

Duncan placed a soft kiss on her forehead, his beard tickling her skin and he whispered gently in her ear. "Thank you for helping a foolish old man."

She smiled as she sank back into sleep, relieved that they were no longer fighting.

**xXx**

When Travis returned from what he said was scouting, he was furious to discover the 'new trick' she had performed.

Grace was still recovering from what she called her lyrium induced hangover, but she had gone to him. "I did not do it to ostracise you." She stated patiently "You weren't here. I am willing to do the same for you."

"Stay away from me witch." He hissed his dark eyes glaring at her vehemently. "I will have nothing of your demon sorcery."

"Fine that's your choice; I'm not going to argue about it." She turned to walk away when he caught her arm; slamming her against a tree, his breath hot on her face, his fingers biting into her arms.

"No one has the power to heal and kill the way you did on the Ostagar battle field. No one can come back from being made tranquil and yet you have. No one can change the taint and once more you defy that which we know to be true. I saw what you did with the Templars in Lothering. You have aligned yourself with a demon."

Grace stared at him wide eyed; gasping as a hand moved to her throat, his fingers beginning to tighten. Her limbs were like lead having used all of her resources in changing the taint. Lights began to dance before her eyes as her hand clawed frantically at his.

"Enough Travis!" The command was from Duncan whose hand was gripping his wrist trying to pull him back and yet Travis kept his hold.

"Back off Travis." Cullen said angrily pressing his blade to his throat.

He squeezed just a little tighter and then pulled away. Duncan all but dragged him to the far side of the camp yelling in fury.

Grace was in Anders arms and Cullen was saying something; but she heard nothing, staring after Travis, fear curling around her heart.

**xXx**

As they set camp that night Leliana walked down to the stream with Grace, more curious than ever about the origins of the woman she travelled with.

Grace hesitated, flushing as Leliana undressed and slipped into the water.

The bard glanced over her shoulder and smiled. "I will not bite."

Grace slipped out of the armour with her back to Leliana, pulling her hair up into a bun.

"That is very beautiful." Leliana complemented her; her gaze fixed on the ice blue dragon tattooed across her back, the head resting against her left shoulder blade, the tail curling around her right thigh.

Grace blushed and hurried into the water to cover herself.

"Was it painful?"

Grace shook her head; in truth she barely remembered getting it done, that time lost in the mists of grief.

Leliana frowned; she had never known anyone so difficult to get information from, or about. "You rarely speak of anything before the battle at Ostagar," Leliana tried again, noticing Grace tense and quickly changing tact. "I simply want you to know if you ever want to talk I have been told I am a good listener."

Grace smiled warily. "Thanks."

Leliana decided to try once more. "Do you have family?"

Grace shivered. "I did."

Leliana watched as she withdrew into herself; concentrating on washing, her eyes looking anywhere, but at the bard. Leliana caught her arm gently. "I am sorry I did not mean to pry; but I mean it, if you wish to talk I am here."

Grace stared into the beautiful azure eyes and Leliana got the distinct impression she was looking into her soul. "My parents were killed a year ago along with my sister. I wasn't there, but I should have been." _Why am I telling her this!_

"What happened?" Grace's look told Leliana she was unwilling to go there. "Could you have stopped whatever happened if you had of been there?" Grace sucked in a breath at the question and Leliana froze fearing she had overstepped herself.

"No. I don't know." She whispered. "Maybe I'd be dead too."

Leliana gently brushed the curls from her face. "You are doing great things Grace; I believe they would be proud of you."

Grace gave a broken laugh. "They'd never believe what I'm doing."

Leliana gave a warm smile. "So what is the story with Travis?"

"Blood mages killed his family. He doesn't trust mages, particularly apostates. It probably doesn't help that I am not what you would class as a typical mage. I think I frighten him and the only way he can deal with that is to hurt me."

"I believe he frightens you too."

Grace wrapped her arms around her waist and regarded the bard with a pained look. "Travis is a man in pain and I have no wish to be the outlet for his anger and grief. Yes he frightens me because I have no idea what he is capable of and I can imagine too much."

Leliana eased through the water and took her wrist smiling at Grace's startled look. "I shall teach you a thing or two of how to release someone's grip on you and then perhaps you may fear a little less, yes?"

A smile tugged the edges of Grace's lips. "Thank you."

**xXx**

The camp that night was dramatically different to previous evenings. Duncan was sharing a drink with Gavarth and Danforth, they were reminiscing and Duncan laughed loudly clapping Gavarth's back. For those who had rarely seen their Commander anything other than serious; it was an astounding, but welcome sight. There seemed to be no lingering ill will with Travis; the Commander had said his part and expected the Warden to follow his orders, which included staying away from Grace.

Travis for his part was staying on the outskirts of the camp; well aware the Commander was tracking his every move, despite his relaxed appearance.

"We should reach the Brecilian Forest by midday tomorrow." Duncan informed them as the stew was ladled into bowls by Cullen, whose turn it had been to cook. Everyone grabbed a bowl enthusiastically; Cullen's culinary delights were always a hit. "With luck we will find one of the clans quickly or more to the point they will find us. We may split into smaller groups should we have no success in locating them by tomorrow evening. So I want everyone rested, we have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow."

Cullen smiled as Grace flopped onto the grass next to him laughing softly as Anders pestered Leliana into telling another tale. "He certainly is persuasive."

Cullen smiled. "That he is. Perhaps a little too persuasive at times."

Grace glanced to him worrying at her lower lip. "Are you still angry with him?"

Shaking his head Cullen met her gaze. "No. I know how Anders deals with things. It may seem a bit confusing to others, but I know he loves me." He smiled. "I know people think me a fool to still be with him; but the Circle broke him, broke us both I suppose and slowly we have healed together. Sometimes it's not quite right, but I know if you hadn't of been there to give him a focus, he might not have been there for me to come back to." He gently squeezed her hand. "I can forgive a kiss in exchange for him still being here."

Grace got the distinct impression he was not talking about Anders running away and glanced to her fellow mage, she couldn't imagine her life without him. She smiled as he scooted between them having helped himself to a second helping of the stew.

"It's delicious." He mumbled his mouthful.

Cullen chuckled finishing his own bowl as Leliana began her tale; smiling as Anders snuggled against him, wrapping his arm around his waist and pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

**xXx**

Grace woke her vision blurred with tears, her body drenched in a cold sweat. Memories had surfaced hitting her like a sledgehammer. She remembered hearing the knock at the door, the police telling her about the accident. She remembered standing in the cold mortuary having to identify the bodies of her parents and sister. How the coldness that had seeped into her bones in that place had clung to her in the weeks that followed. The heat of the shower had felt icy in her shocked haze. She had seen again the funeral that few people had attended. They had no other family and her parents had discouraged friends. She had watched the coffins lowered into the ground remembering the argument as she left a year earlier on her nineteenth birthday, desperate for her own life. She had wept for weeks after leaving remembering the eyes of her sister pleading for her not to go. Grace remembered the flat she had made her own; the friends she had gained, the sense of freedom. She still feared her father; feared that he would come for her, but she had been careful and he had never found her. She hugged her knees to her chest wishing that Alistair was with her, that she could curl into the safety of his arms. She lay back down shivering, her memories surfacing once more as sleep took her to the Fade.

**xXx**

Alistair paced his room tormented. He couldn't bear the distance between himself and Grace, it felt physically painful and a deep dread had settled over him that she was in danger. He counted the days to when he could leave for Redcliffe.


	13. Curse of the Dalish

Grace was on alert as soon as they entered the Brecilian Forest; assuming it would not be long before they were halted by the elves, but their progress through the forest was undisturbed. The hairs on the back of her neck began to rise and her heart almost stopped as a savage howl echoed through the forest. Weapons were unsheathed in response; but it was too late, they were surrounded.

Through the trees came the creatures; standing tall, their fur a multitude of shades, teeth razor sharp and gleaming in the light shimmering through the forest canopy. The largest Werewolf moved forward his eyes dark and intelligent. "I am Swiftrunner. Leave now, or face the fate of the Dalish." His voice was a snarl, harsh and savage.

"What have you done?" Grace whispered in horror, unaware that she had placed herself between Duncan and the beast.

Swiftrunner regarded her curiously. "Leave now." He was astonished when her hand gripped his arm, aware that her own group had given startled cries and Hunter had grabbed onto her armour with his mouth trying to pull her back. She appeared not to notice, her focus on him.

"Where are the elves? Where is the Keeper?"

"The elves are cursed as we are; the Keeper is with the Lady."

"Then take us to them."

"I will not take a group such as yours. I will not put our Lady in harm's way."

"Then just take me." She ignored Duncan's growl of protest. "There must be a way to break this curse."

Swiftrunner moved closer to her, his hot breath burning her face. "You're not afraid of me?"

Grace struggled to stop the hysterical laugh that was welling in her throat, she was talking to a werewolf of course she was afraid! "Please, let us speak to The Lady and the Keeper."

He stood back considering her for a moment. "Very well, you may choose three others to accompany you."

Grace looked back at Duncan, and flinched at the dark look he was giving her.

Gripping her arm he pulled her back and away from the others. "What do you know about what's happening here?"

Grace swallowed painfully. "Only the obvious, that the elves are cursed and the only chance we have of getting them back is to speak to this Lady and the Keeper. That means going with the Werewolves."

Duncan knew the truth of her words, but was wary of trusting such creatures. Cursed or not they would be in danger with them. His attention was brought back to Grace as she gripped his arm.

"Wait here I will find out what I can and …."

"Grace, if you think I am sending you alone into a Werewolf lair …"

"Duncan I don't think they will hurt me."

"Like they haven't hurt the elves?"

Grace winced. "I would think they would want an end to the curse as much as the elves."

Duncan teased his beard and nodded. "It is worth the risk, we need support to face this Blight." They re-joined the others, Swiftrunner being surprisingly patient. "Cullen, Aedan and I will go, the rest of you head to the edge of the forest and wait for us. If we do not return by tomorrow at day break continue on to the Circle of Magi." Anders and Leliana were about to protest, but were silenced by Duncan's look.

Maverin stepped forward, unconcerned by the hisses from the Werewolves. "Duncan, would it not be more appropriate for me to accompany you?"

"Under normal circumstances I would agree, but these circumstances are far from normal." He moved closer to the elf lowering his voice. "If we fail to get support here I trust you to try and find other clans." Maverin nodded in acceptance.

Danforth moved to Grace and placed a rough hand on her shoulder. He and Maverin had been scouting and so had missed the main drama in the group with Travis, but unlike Travis they had accepted her offer of changing the taint within them. Danforth had been a Warden almost as long as Duncan and he had feared for the strain it clearly put her under, but she had been delighted when it had worked. He bent low to her ear. "Watch yourself kid. Keep your wits about you." She nodded giving him a quick hug.

Anders and Cullen shared a brief embrace, Anders whispering into Cullen's ear making the other man blush.

Leliana and Aedan shared a look before he moved towards Duncan, instructing Shadow to remain with her.

Regretfully Grace told Hunter to remain with Anders. The mabari was not at all pleased with that, he was pacified just a little with Shadow's continuing presence.

Anders nodded to Grace and Cullen his eyes pleading with them to be careful and watched as they walked further into the forest, fear settling into the pit of his stomach.

**xXx**

Grace felt tension building in her the further into the forest they walked. She had put her companions in danger without intending to and she had no idea if the Lady or the Keeper would help them. They entered the ruins and followed Swiftrunner down a long flight of steps to a door he opened by tracing his claws over specific sections. The room he led them to was large, roots of trees curling around the stones and a shaft of sunlight filtering in despite how far beneath the ground they must have come. Grace turned startled at a whimper and saw Zathrian chained to the wall; his robes torn, a large gash still bleeding on the left side of his face. Unthinking she ran towards him; crying out in alarm as Swiftrunner grabbed her by the waist, lifting her off the floor and snarling in her ear to be still.

"I see we have guests."

Grace turned to see the Lady. She was unclothed; her skin a pale green with veins of bark visible over her body, particularly prominent on her legs and arms. Her black hair swept down to her waist and her eyes were black pools. Grace noticed that Duncan, Aedan and Cullen were also restrained by Werewolves and she shivered as the Lady approached her.

"Why have you come?" Her voice was the whisper of the breeze through leaves.

"We came seeking aid against the blight." Duncan boomed.

"Surely you do not expect aid from us." The Lady purred, her eyes locked with the golden eyes of the woman before her. "But perhaps you came seeking aid from the Dalish. As you can see they cannot help you."

Zathrian groaned again, trying to rouse himself from his semi-conscious state.

Grace managed to shift slightly. "Please Lady; there is a blight we need the Dalish, where are they?"

The Lady waved her arms to the room now full of Werewolves. "They are here child."

Grace shivered at the menace in the Lady's eyes.

The Lady pointed to Zathrian. "He has refused to lift the curse; so I subjected him to watching his people turned, one by one. Still he refuses. There is no salvation for us." Her voice became the crash of a waterfall pounding on rocks. "And there will be no salvation for you."

Grace flinched as Swiftrunner's grip tightened. She twisted at Cullen's cry of pain as a Werewolf who held him bit down on his exposed neck. "Cullen!" She screamed; staring in horror as he sagged, blood running down his armour. Her magic flared, so intense she could almost feel it beginning to pull her apart. Her scream of rage echoed around the room and each beast was thrown to the floor. She tore herself from Swiftrunner, barely paying attention to the wounds caused by his claws and darted across the room to Cullen.

Duncan was struggling to stop the wound from bleeding, Aedan holding him as Cullen's body spasmed in agony.

**xXx**

Cullen felt the sharp pain as teeth sank into his flesh, followed by a heat that seemed to burn his blood. He was only vaguely aware that Duncan was pressing cloth to the wound and Aedan was restraining him. He felt Grace take hold of his hand. Felt her magic flood his body as he had the night she had healed his wounds, but this time her magic did nothing to halt the curse that flowed through his veins. He screamed in pain as his body was torn apart from the inside.

**xXx**

Grace snarled in frustration, looking up at her companions as guilt started to flood her mind.

"Do something." Aedan hissed in panic as the Werewolves got back to their feet; snarling and growling, only held back by the Lady herself.

She tried again; her magic pouring into Cullen, again it had no effect. Cullen's eyes flared open as he screamed; focusing on her for a brief moment, his look of pain haunting her. Grace turned and advanced towards the Lady her rage making her shake. "Why?"

"Motivation, perhaps you can persuade him to release us."

Grace stared at her stunned. "Help him, or I swear I'll kill you myself."

"He can only be cured if the curse is lifted."

It was all Grace could do not to incinerate her. She ran to the Keeper, sinking to her knees before him.

"Do not speak to me Shemlen." He hissed "Your kind has only sought to destroy mine and now there is nothing left."

"Keeper lift the curse, your people will become themselves once more."

"As will the shems." He snarled.

"You fool!" She raged. "You would destroy your people just to see these humans remain cursed?"

Zathrian turned away, his face as stone.

Grace glanced to Cullen, watching in horror as his body began to tear itself apart, his armour shattering around him. Cullen's yellow eyes met hers and he let out an ear piercing howl. "Damn it Zathrian, end the curse." Grace slammed her arm against his throat momentarily choking him before pulling back.

"How do you know my name?" He gasped, staring at her startled.

"Please Zathrian; I know what the humans did to your children, I know how you grieve, but it is your own people suffering, would your children have wanted that?" _Please let this be the same_.

"How could you know?" Tears shone in his eyes and he searched her uncertainly.

"Please Zathrian, free your people."

"I cannot. My pain is eternal. The humans must pay!"

"They did pay. They are long gone and now your own clan is lost to this curse. Save them Zathrian; be the leader they need, let go of your hatred just for a moment, just long enough so they can live as elves once more." He shook his head and a defeated sob burst from her chest, her heart constricting in pain. A clawed hand pulled at her shoulder and she turned. The Werewolf stared down at her, anguish and pain in his eyes. She glanced to Duncan and Aedan who were behind him and realised it was Cullen. "No." She sobbed rising to her feet and burying her face into the fur of his chest.

"Kill me." His strangled voice doing little to hide his agony.

"Cullen no! I'll find a way to free you, I swear."

He shook his head. "Tell Anders I love him."

Grace stared in horror, as he grabbed one of her daggers.

Aedan and Duncan tackled him to the floor. "Grace!" Aedan yelled, his eyes fierce in the unspoken demand.

Grace turned to Zathrian. "What will it take? What would make you break the curse?"

The Keeper turned to her then and she shrank from his cunning look. "Your blood."

She stared at him stunned. "What!"

"There is power in blood. Power in your blood and I would have it."

She glanced once at Cullen and bared her arm. "Do it."

**xXx**

Duncan had never been one to be shaken by much, but watching one of his Wardens becoming a Werewolf had shaken him to the core. He pinned Cullen, or rather the Werewolf he had become to the floor struggling to retrieve the dagger, pausing as he heard Grace's cry of pain. Zathrian had used her other dagger drawing it along the length of her arm.

Cullen pushed Duncan back easily in his distracted state, throwing Aedan to one side with his superior strength and gripped the blade. Fire burned through his blood, the pain continuing to tear him apart. There was nothing but the pain, the terrible sensations that had corrupted his body. He was an abomination. The pain was too much and he couldn't bear the thought of life without Anders, or worse of being a risk to the man he loved. Cullen gave a terrible howl before he plunged the dagger into his chest.

Aedan shook his head; his vision hazy for a moment, crying out helplessly when he saw Cullen fall. He turned as Zathrian drew on the power of Grace's blood; guilt almost choked him, this was not what he had meant. He was sickened as the blood swirled around the Keeper as he kept drawing more. Grace had collapsed; her body still, her face so pale, he thought for one awful moment that Zathrian had drained all the blood from her. Aedan moved to Grace pulling her into his arms, glaring at the Keeper who stood motionless above her.

Zathrian gave a deep sigh of contentment as her blood flowed at his command. The Lady's cries were short lived as her body erupted into flames.

Aedan watched as the werewolves changed in a haze of shimmering light, the Dalish and humans freed. Zathrian took his final revenge raising his arm he sent out his power and Aedan watched in horror as they clutched their throats, screaming as their blood boiled within them until they fell to the ground unmoving.

"Now it is over." Zathrian declared, smiling in triumph.

Aedan turned his gaze from the horrific sight and concentrated on Grace; carefully bandaging the wound, determined that he would not lose anyone else.

**xXx**

Grace jerked up; her eyes opening wide, wincing at the pain in her arm, blood still soaking through the freshly dressed wound.

"Easy." Aedan said gently, his fingers gripping her shoulder.

She glanced around; the room now filled with the Dalish, but no humans other than herself and the Wardens. It was difficult to think, but she presumed the humans had made their escape while they could. She shrank from Zathrian as he knelt beside her, his smile terrifying her.

"Thank you, I am truly sorry for your loss."

_Loss, what loss!_ She glanced at Aedan in confusion, noticing his bloodshot eyes and grief stricken face. He shifted slightly and her eyes focused on Duncan and the man he was carefully clothing in a mismatch of armour. The lump in her throat grew until she felt she would choke. Her breath came out in sharp gasps followed finally by an agonised wail. She wrenched free from Aedan's grasp and flew across the room, collapsing at Duncan's side. Her dagger was by Cullen's hand, still stained with his blood. Her tears fell as she pressed her forehead to his chest. "Why didn't you wait?" She sobbed.

**xXx**

Anders watched as they returned, his joy fading at the sight of Cullen limp in Duncan's arms. He raced forward his cry alerting the others. He knew there was nothing he could do; but still he invoked spell after spell, screaming at the Maker to bring him back.

Grace stayed back from them all; sinking onto the grass, her back against a tree, burying her head in her arms as she hugged her knees to her chest. She felt numb, her eyes still stinging from the tears already shed. Hunter had crept up to her resting his head on her knee seeking to comfort her. Others had tried to approach her, but one look had been enough for them to back away. Time passed and she became aware that Anders had stopped screaming and glanced up.

The others were building a pyre as Anders whispered final words into Cullen's ear. He looked up, his eyes locking with hers and he crossed the distance between them.

Grace expected him to scream at her; hit her even, but he knelt, gently taking her injured arm into his hands. She felt the pulse of his magic and pulled free. "No!" His startled look brought tears to her eyes. "This is my fault; the wound will heal without magic." He shook his head reaching out for her again; but she stumbled to her feet, her cheeks wet with tears. "No!"

Anders gazed at her uncomprehending, crushed by his grief and finally returned to Cullen.

**xXx**

The sun sank in a blaze of gold's and pinks. The dark ink stains of night spreading across the sky, casting them into shadow and darkness. Duncan and Danforth supported a sobbing Anders to light the pyre. He spoke brokenly of his love for the Warden, until grief constricted his throat and left him speechless.

Duncan spoke then, compassionately of the man he had recruited three years ago.

Gavarth cast a glance at Grace who stood back from the others; her face pale and wet with tears, guilt and grief burdening her soul.

The pyre burned long into the night. Leliana's beautiful voice raised in song, accompanying Cullen's final journey to the Maker's side.


	14. Memories

Anders woke from yet another nightmare of Cullen, crying out his name. Tears soaked his pillow and his eyes were raw with grief. He was numb, empty and barely able to function. He reached out for the familiar warm body, which of course was no longer there and never would be again. Balling his hands into fists he pressed them against his mouth muffling the scream.

_The relationship between mage and Templar had been completely unexpected by both parties. Anders had dim memories of a family that had cast him out as soon as he had shown signs of his magical talent and he had never forgiven them. He had been five years old, a mischievous boy who was always quicker to laugh than cry and much loved by his parents. His mother had fallen badly, breaking her leg and barely conscious from loss of blood. Without knowing what he was doing Anders had pressed his hands to his mother's leg and watched curiously as blue light had manifested from his hands, mending the bone and healing the wound. Anders remembered the sense of triumph that he had been able to help his mother, but the fear in her eyes and the rage of his father had driven the happiness from him. The men in armour had come for him the following day. He hadn't cried, screamed, or begged to stay because he was afraid, afraid of himself. At first the Circle didn't seem so bad. He was with others who could do what he did, but he knew they were there because they were sinful. The Templar's had told him that on the journey to the circle; his parents had told him that and in his heart Anders broke, a little more each day. When Jowan had come to the circle he found a true friend, though they hid their friendship from the Templar's, afraid they would be separated._

Anders did not linger on the memory of Jowan, for that too was painful and wrenched at his heart. His thoughts remained with Cullen; forcing him to sift through his memories, grasping at the joy they had shared, as much as he was wounded by the pain.

_Cullen had come to the circle at eighteen years old. A fresh Templar recently passed his recruitment with none of the cynicism of the older Templar's. He saw his duty and role as one of protection, as much for the mages themselves as for the rest of the world and he did not hesitate to inform his superiors of any mistreatment from his fellows. This left him alienated from both sides. The mages feared he was playing some game with them and the Templar's branded him a mage lover and a threat. Cullen however had great faith and did not waver in his interpretation of his duties. His first contact with Anders was finding him being beaten by another Templar. He was fourteen; tall and thin, hazel eyes red with tears, robes torn from the beating and bruising badly. Cullen had been swift to pull back his fellow Templar, putting himself in front of the sobbing mage until Ser Mavin had stormed off in fury at having his sport ended prematurely. Cullen gently offered his hand to the distraught boy and frowned as he shrank back from him, his eyes wide in fear. Cullen had pulled back his hand and finally managed to coax the boy to follow him to the infirmary. He had explained to Senior Enchanter Wynne what had occurred and with weary resignation she had set about healing Anders yet again. Cullen had taken the opportunity to question Wynne about the young mage as he slept and discovered to his horror that he was a regular visitor to her. She had brushed back the pale blond locks of hair tenderly from his face, pain in her eyes._

Anders smiled bitterly to himself. So much time wasted. He had distrusted Cullen from the start, terrified when he seemed to take more than a passing interest in him. If Anders was in the library Cullen was there, it seemed if he turned a corner he would bump into the Templar. Jowan had teased him, but he too had been afraid.

_Cullen had been completely unaware of the fear he was evoking in the young mage, seeing himself a protector if not friend. It was therefore to his great surprise when he had entered Anders dormitory that he saw him look up wearily, resignation and pain on his face._

"_I wondered when you would come." He whispered, tears slipping down his cheeks. _

_Cullen's confusion only intensified when the young mage lay on the bed burying his face into the pillow as he sobbed angrily, hissing at him to 'get on with it'. Cullen had backed away horrified; his face drained of colour, his body trembling. "I would never..." His voice stuck in his throat._

_Anders had looked up startled. He watched as the mortified Templar hurried from the room, his tears falling now in relief._

_Cullen had been in a state of agitation since his encounter with the young mage and it was no surprise to him when Knight Commander Greagior had informed them of his escape. Anders was fifteen, inexperienced and captured within the day having had no plan beyond leaving his prison. Cullen had asked for leniency and the young mage had been flogged, but not placed in solitary confinement. Cullen had gone to Anders, requesting that he never do such a foolish thing again and if he had any further problems with Templar's he was to inform him immediately. Anders had nodded, already planning his next escape._

_Anders had been utterly confused by Cullen and more confused by the rush of emotions that surged through him whenever the Templar was near, which was pretty much always. He was afraid of him; resented his presence, yet if he was not within eyesight he was agitated and restless, his eyes constantly seeking him out, only relaxing when he came into sight. Cullen too found himself agitated if he did not know the whereabouts of the young mage and lived in constant fear that he would try to escape again._

_After the third time of Anders being dragged back to the circle he was placed in solitary confinement for a month. He was sixteen, young, but jaded by his experiences. The dark walls had closed in on him and he had sobbed himself to sleep. His jailer was a constant torment, whispering through the bars his intentions towards the mage until his face was pale and drawn from lack of sleep and his body was hunched and cramped from hugging himself tightly in a corner in fear. It was Cullen who came to release him, taking him gently by the shoulder and guiding him to his room. For a brief moment Anders had leaned against the Templar and Cullen had allowed it, before the mage had pulled back horrified at himself. The chocolate brown eyes had gazed at him tenderly; sadly, with more wisdom that a nineteen year old should have._

_Anders had tried to avoid Cullen after that, but his fear of the other Templar's overrode his fears of his own feelings for the Templar and again his eyes took to seeking him out. Jowan had begged him to be wary of the Templar and Anders had agreed with him, but it had been far too late. His shattered heart was clinging to the fact that this man was protecting him. In his dreams the Templar was always close; never touching, but always near until in frustration he had kissed him, waking from the dream in shock, his hands trembling, his body on fire. Jowan had heard the tiny whimper and had crossed the room, getting into the bed and pulling his friend tight to him. Anders clung to him as tears slipped down his cheeks._

_**xXx**_

_Anders had been nineteen at his sixth escape from the circle. He knew if he was captured he would be given no leniency and he would either be killed, or made tranquil. Anders did not fear death and some days he felt he would prefer it, but he feared above all else being made tranquil. He had run until his muscles burned and his lungs screamed in protest and still he somehow managed to find the strength to keep going. They had found him two weeks later, Ser Mavrin leading them. He had flung Anders to the ground, laughing as he brutally slammed his gauntleted fist into the young man's face. Dazed as he was Anders was aware of the Templar turning him over, pressing himself against him. Terror had made him scream, but that seemed to encourage him. He squirmed, kicking and struggling as the older man pinned him to the floor grunting with the effort. Anders felt him grab his hair, his head pulled back and then slammed into the ground. As his body went limp and everything turned to darkness he prayed he would never wake up._

_The sound of steel on steel greeted Anders when he groggily returned to consciousness. Through hazy vision he saw three Templar's dead on the ground and the fourth Templar in deadly combat with Ser Mavrin. His helmet hit the floor and Anders gave a sharp intake of breath as Cullen ducked the blade intended to decapitate him. Anders felt his hand move to his chest and became aware of the wet, sticky substance covering his robes. Struggling to move he had looked down, the material covered in blood. He gave a cry of shock and looking up saw Cullen drive his sword through his commanders stomach, using his foot to kick him off the blade and then beheading him. The young Templar fell to his knees, exhausted. Anders wanted to go to him, but he was unable to move and instead a strange bubbling noise left his lips. _

_Cullen was by his side instantly, putting a healing potion to his blood stained mouth. "Stay with me Anders."_

_Fever had consumed Anders for three days before he had returned to consciousness. He was in a small hut; his chest strapped with many bandages, dressed only in his small clothes beneath the rough blanket. _

_Cullen moved restlessly in his sleep in a chair next to him, his neck at an awkward angle. He awoke with a start as Anders reached out touching his hand. Templar and Mage gazed at each other, both suddenly afraid to move. Cullen had finally moved first; gently pressing a tepid cloth to Anders feverish brow, caressing his cheek with trembling fingers. "You need to eat." Cullen muttered tearing himself away and filling a bowl with stew. He had helped Anders to sit and the mage had felt a little amused when he insisted on feeding him. _

_His chest hurt and his throat was raw as he ate. "Where are we?"_

"_Home." Cullen had whispered sadness in his eyes. _

_Anders had not pressed him, content simply to be in the presence of the man he knew he would do anything for._

_**xXx**_

_When Anders had regained his strength he had managed to sit up and walk the small length of the room to the door. Sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy onto a stunningly idyllic scene. The small hut had an equally small garden that boasted a bounty of vegetables. Cullen was stripped to his waist, chopping wood and Anders noticed he had been hunting for their evening meal. Longing to feel useful he had gone to see if he could help, but misjudged his strength and collapsed with a soft moan as he left the hut._

_Cullen sighed in exasperation and carried the injured young man back into the hut. _

_Anders had trembled in his arms, aching at his deep rich smell, the muscled chest he was pressed against and found his eyes locked with the Templar. Neither knew who started the kiss, but the soft pressure of lips pressed together became insistent, a desperation for a need to be fulfilled that neither had admitted. Anders wrapped his arms around Cullen's neck; his fingertips exploring the soft reddish hair, pulling him deeper into their kiss. _

_Cullen pressed him gently to the bed, trembling as Anders responded to his touch. It was a gentle exploration of each other's bodies; Cullen holding back his passion fearing he would cause further injury to the young man, who barely seemed aware of how injured he still was. _

_Anders frustration made itself known with growls and pleading hands until Cullen's restraint finally met its end and he made love to Anders with all the passion he had kept pent up over the years. _

_Anders lay trembling in Cullen's arms long after the older man had drifted to sleep. His fingers wound around the smattering of chest hair and he gave a contented sigh, for the first time feeling free._

Anders sobbed until his eyes and throat burned and still tears fell. He buried his gasping sobs into the blanket, almost choking in the effort to be quiet. He remembered their conscription barely weeks later. Duncan with a troop of Wardens had appeared, having been tracking the Darkspawn that attacked their home and joined them in the fight. Duncan had offered them a place in the Order and they had initially thought to refuse, but Anders had been injured and was slowly dying from the taint. Cullen had taken the joining with him, refusing to think that the Maker would separate them now. That had been three years ago. Three years of killing Darkspawn. Three years of his waiting for Cullen to realise he didn't and couldn't actually love a mage. Three years of pushing Cullen to the limits with his infidelities.

_Anders had been terrified the day he realised he had fallen in love with Cullen. That was the first night he had spent with someone else, a young barmaid who had giggled at his jokes and eagerly let him into her bed. Guiltily he had returned to Cullen whose eyes regarded him with such pain Anders broke down, sinking to his knees and sobbing until warm arms wrapped around him and helped him to their bed. _

_Cullen had realised just how damaged his lover was and had tried to reassure him that he was loved, but the more he showed Anders he loved him, the more his mage retreated to the arms of others. In the end Cullen had backed off, hoping that somehow Anders would heal. It caused Cullen great sadness that Anders seemed able to be faithful only when the Templar acted at a distance._

Anders curled into the blanket as his tears fell, his body shaking and cold. He would never hold Cullen in his arms again, never have the opportunity to tell him just how much he did love him and the guilt and pain swamped him and he longed for oblivion.


	15. The Many Strands of Grief

It had been four days since Cullen had died and two since they had taken their leave of the Dalish, their future support having been confirmed by the Keeper. They were headed to the Circle of Magi, with a stop at Redcliffe to allow Duncan to speak to Arl Eamon.

Duncan felt helpless struggling with how best to support Anders in his grief. He had told him only that the curse had killed Cullen, ensuring Anders never saw the dagger wound in his lovers chest. He feared the truth would break the mage completely. Moral was generally low in the group and to compound matters Aedan was barely functioning and Grace was completely unapproachable. The only relief in the whole mess was that Travis was keeping his mouth shut, but he doubted that would last.

His thoughts often lingered on Cullen and he felt the deep ache in his own heart that losing the Warden had made. Cullen's Templar skills had been a Maker send so many times and he had been a gifted swordsman, but more than that he was a good man and he had become a friend. Duncan clenched his fist; if he had not allowed himself to be distracted, if he had moved quicker, but he knew such thoughts would only lead to despair and with three others in their company succumbing to it he had to stand firm. He could not afford the luxury of self-reproach and blame. In truth he could not allow anyone that luxury, they were fighting a Blight and despite such a loss they had their duty and that came first.

So Duncan took time daily to speak to Anders, knowing well the carefree attitude the mage usually displayed was masking a greater vulnerability. He also knew that Anders grief would affect his magic and as cold as it seemed he needed him in fighting form. He wasn't sure if it helped, but although Anders said nothing he did listen and seemed to take some comfort from his words.

**xXx**

Anders was grateful for Duncan's presence in the days since Cullen's death. He never spoke, too afraid that if he did the wails of grief building within him would come out and he did not wish to appear to be weak. Listening however he could do and despite almost breaking as Duncan's hand squeezed his shoulder he craved the contact.

He felt lost, alone and had no idea how he was going to get on with his life. Without Cullen his life was empty. He ached for the warmth of touch, of a body pressed to his. Cullen had held back the nightmares, had looked out for him and now he was on his own. He felt anger stir beneath the grief that Cullen was gone and each night would retreat to his tent and rage until he sobbed the ache in his heart at the loss of the one person he had allowed himself to love felt as though it was killing him. Each night he held a dagger to his chest when the shadows closed in on him and the memories became too much, but he always put it down, knowing that Cullen would be furious if he took his own life.

**xXx**

Aedan sought solace in Leliana's arms; he needed something, anything to chase back the darkness. She was warmth and light and showed him tenderness and caring that he had resisted since his conscription. He had hardened himself so that nothing could hurt him again, but it hadn't worked. Seeing Cullen drive the blade into his own chest and Grace bled by that damn mage had ripped him wide open.

Leliana gave him space to talk or be silent and at first he had said nothing, until she pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss and then his barriers crashed and his pain had spilled out. Leliana had been aware he had lost his family though she did not know the specifics. He did not go into detail, but he spoke instead of how much he missed them, that he had been unable to save them. His feelings of guilt were obvious and they had been further compounded by Cullen's death and Grace's injury. Leliana gently wrapped her body around his, her fingers running through his hair. "None of this is your fault Aedan, put blame where it belongs with this Lady and Zathrian."

Aedan remained silent, but her words made sense and the pain eased a fraction.

**xXx**

Grace walked down to the stream as the weary group rested in a small grove of trees, wetting her face with the cool water. Her arm throbbed and she carefully pulled back the material of her robe and undid the bandages. She had stored her armour to return to Alistair and added her daggers to Cullen's pyre. She had no intention of ever carrying another blade. The skin was inflamed, still weeping and burned as she carefully washed and then applied the salve before putting on a fresh dressing.

"You should let me heal that if you're having trouble healing it yourself."

Grace shook her head, her gaze remaining on the water.

Anders hand rested on her shoulder, gritting his teeth as she shrank from him. "Grace please, Cullen wouldn't have wanted this."

Grace's heart ached. _He's dead because of me._ "We should never have gone down there." Her voice was a painful sounding croak, the words straining her larynx. "I was so sure I knew what to do. If anyone had to die it should have been me."

"You almost did." He whispered looking at her arm. "You have to stop punishing yourself and Aedan."

Grace stared at him in confusion, a frown creasing her forehead. "How am I punishing Aedan?"

"Grace the man feels guilty enough about what happened to his own family. He said he pushed you to do whatever led to that wound. Don't you understand, you refusing to have it healed is torturing him and why won't any of the three of you tell me how you got that!" He was angry now, his hands shaking.

Grace shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I'm not punishing _him_ Anders. None of this is his fault. I won't let you heal the wound because it's a reminder of my mistake, my arrogance that ….that..." She found herself unable to continue, her breaths strangled by sobs.

Anders pulled her against his body; holding her tightly, trembling at the emotions surging through him. _He missed Cullen's laugh, the way he would grin from the corner of his mouth that sent tingles throughout his body. He missed those deep chocolate eyes and that brown hair flecked with red that would glitter when caught in the sunlight. He missed his rough lips and calloused hands and how well their bodies fitted together. He missed his warmth and the affection and wisdom of his Templar Warden._ He realised he was sobbing himself and clung to Grace as much as she was now clinging to him. His lips sought hers, plundering her mouth in his need for the comfort of touch. She gave a soft moan, responding as his fingers wound in her hair and pulled her hips tight to him. He pushed her back against the grass; his hand trailing across her cheek, his lips pressing against the faint bruises that still marked her throat. She arched against him as his hand caressed her breast, the material of her robe shifting beneath his fingers. He was undoing the clasps tears still falling and she whimpered as his fingers burnt a trail across her skin. His urgency was almost crippling; his lips fiercely demanding, the salt of their tears in each breathless kiss.

"Anders stop!" She pleaded.

He froze; pulling back, his face distraught. "Grace...I...I'm sorry." He gasped, aching as she fastened her robe, her fingers shaking. He pulled her gently to her feet, her eyes mirroring his own confusion and guilt. They returned to camp moving away from each other, neither knowing what to say.

**xXx**

Grace finally plucked up the courage to approach Aedan. "None of this was your fault." The softness of her voice soothed his jagged edges.

"I expected so much from you." His voice was broken, grief from so many sources pouring in on him. "You've been able to do so much." He hurried on seeing the guilt cloud her face. "It wasn't fair of me." He approached her, wincing as she flinched from his touch. "I thought we'd lost you too." He whispered, struggling to keep his voice steady. He realised they were too alike. Both locked in their grief and pain, blaming only themselves and keeping everyone else out. "Grace, please!" He felt the shift in her; that she had understood his plea and sighed as he felt her warm arms wrap around his waist, accepting his arms around her. They stood together for a long time, taking strength from each other. There was no need for words; just the companionship of shared grief, of a blame that was self-imposed and almost impossible to remove. She reached up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, a soft gesture of comfort he would always treasure.

**xXx**

The day before they reached Redcliffe Travis approached Anders, his dark eyes seeking in the mage the vulnerability that would be necessary. "I believe I know how she received that wound." He whispered. Despite Anders leaning away from him, he knew the mage was listening. "Why would she have a wound that she will not heal, nor allow you to heal? There can be only one explanation, though I hesitate to suggest it."

Anders glared at him. "Say what you have to say Travis." He snarled.

"She has been using blood magic. Her delving into the forbidden arts has cost you the man you loved."

Anders felt the gasp well in his throat, staring in shock at the rogue. "No, she would never!"

"What more proof do you need? If it was caused in any other way surely she would have told you its origins. Yet Duncan and Aedan also remain silent. I believe they seek to keep you from further pain."

Anders shook his head, but Travis's words were already taking root and he was on his feet moving towards Grace before Travis had left him. "We need to talk." Anders hissed grabbing Grace's uninjured arm and dragging her into the trees. It was the first time they had spoken; other than uncomfortable small talk at mealtimes, since their grief fuelled passion.

"Anders you're hurting me."

He flung her arm from him, his fierce stare terrifying. "Tell me the truth; tell me how you got that." He hissed, pointing at her arm.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does if it was blood magic." His heart caved in as her face paled horrified that Travis had spoken the truth.

"Anders you don't understand."

"There is no excuse for blood magic!" He yelled; pushing her hard into a tree, barely registering that she had given no resistance.

"Cullen was cursed." She whispered; her voice choked. "It was the only way to try to save him."

"Travis was right, you are an abomination." He slammed his fist into the tree barely missing her face. "Cullen should be here, not you! I wish I'd never met you!" He stalked off, hatred darkening his features.

**xXx**

Aedan heard Anders harsh words and saw Grace sink to the ground, her hands covering her face as she wept and he moved swiftly to her side. "You need to tell him what happened." He urged.

"What difference would it make? He's right. Blood magic is blood magic, no matter who is doing it."

"You nearly died trying to save Cullen." He said angrily.

"Cullen should never have been there! None of you should. When Swiftrunner said there were no elves we should have just left; but no, I dragged us in there anyway and he's dead because of me. Nothing I do will ever change that. Anders will always hate me, so let him hate me for that too."

"Grace please." She turned from him, ending their discussion.

**xXx**

Aedan hurried after Anders gripping his shoulder and pulling him further from the group, glaring at the startled glances of the others daring them to follow. "Now listen to me Anders; I know you're grieving, but don't you dare take it out on Grace. She did all that she could to save Cullen. She risked her life for him."

"Travis was right." Anders gritted his teeth in anguish. "She bargains with demons, I should have seen through her."

"You're a bloody fool. Grace did not do blood magic and if I'm any judge of her she never would and deep down you know that! The only way that damn Keeper would end the curse was with her blood. Cullen had grabbed her dagger and Duncan and I tried to stop him, truly we did. Zathrian said something about the power in her blood and then she was screaming as he cut into her arm. He just kept drawing the blood out of her." Aedan let go of Anders arm, shuddering at the memory. "He was killing her. Cullen killed himself before Zathrian was finished; he was in so much pain." Aedan was oblivious to Anders horrified look, locked in his memories. "He killed all of the other Werewolves who had been human Anders, I can still hear them screaming. There was nothing we could do for Cullen and Grace was barely breathing." He looked up suddenly staring into Anders wide eyes and paled realising what he had said. "Anders I...I shouldn't have. I'm so sorry." Aedan rubbed his eyes, regret etched on his features.

"He killed himself?" The words tore from the mages throat.

"He was in so much pain. The transformation was excruciating and it didn't seem to stop when the change was complete." Aedan lowered his head, his sorrow at his own actions weighing heavily. "I...I pushed Grace to do whatever it took to help him. If you have to blame someone for the blood magic then blame Zathrian; blame me, but not her."

Anders gave a shuddering sob, sinking to his knees. "I should have been with him, it should have been me."

Aedan closed his eyes at the broken words and embraced the young man his heart aching.


	16. Choices

Alistair had reached the outskirts of Redcliffe when he saw the group of Wardens, his eyes searching for Grace. He sent his men on ahead to the Castle while he urged his favourite stallion Stormchaser onward, eager to see her again. "Hale Duncan." Dismounting and clasping the Warden Commanders hand firmly; noting that the man looked exhausted, dark circles deep beneath his eyes.

"Your Highness; what are you doing here, and alone?"

"I sent my men on to Redcliffe when I saw you." The entire party looked exhausted; but beyond that they were silent, burdened with a grief Alistair did not understand. He scanned each face and inwardly groaned Cullen was not with them. "I take it all has not gone well."

"We have Dalish support, but the cost was great. Cullen...is dead."

"You have my sympathy Duncan."

"It was my fault." Grace murmured wearily.

Alistair felt his blood run cold and looked to Duncan who gave a deep sigh. Not caring in the least if people knew about them in that moment he pulled her further from the main group, raising her chin so he could see her eyes. "What happened?" She told him, her voice barely above a whisper. Alistair listened in silence, desperate to comfort her. "Grace; you risked your life for Cullen no one could ask more, but we will have to speak about you breaking promises." He smiled slightly at Grace's look of confusion and gently brushed a lock of hair back from her face. "You promised me no heroics."

Grace pressed herself tight against him struggling against the tears welling in her eyes and the lump constricting her throat.

Alistair held her close stroking her hair, and kissing the top of her head. He glanced up and saw Anders looking at them; his face pale, his eyes bloodshot, Aedan's hand resting protectively on his shoulder.

**xXx**

Anders felt his anger increase; his hands balled into fists, his jaw aching it was clenched so tightly. He was angry at Cullen for taking his own life, angry at Grace for risking hers and angry at himself that he had not been there for either of them and now he was furious that Alistair was holding Grace when he didn't dare go near her after what he had said. He shuddered at the words he had spoken and wished for the thousandth time that he could take them back. He had known her such a short time, but in that time they had been through so much. _I'm supposed to be her friend and look how I've treated her_. He had found a support of a kind in Aedan, and was grateful for the warm hand even now gripping his shoulder. He turned from Alistair's searching eyes and concentrated on their short walk to the castle.

**xXx**

They were greeted by a servant who looked on the verge of turning them away, until he realised it was Prince Alistair to whom he was speaking, his men having already been shown to the servant's quarters. Begging an apology he admitted them into a small waiting area and hurried off. The harassed man returned moments later leading the Wardens to several rooms he informed were theirs for the duration of their stay.

To Alistair he had advised that Bann Teagan had requested his presence in the main hall. Alistair was startled that it was the Arl's brother requesting to see him rather than the Arl himself. Alistair was greeted by Teagan who looked as though he had not slept in days and Isolde whose eyes were raw with crying. Teagan explained that Eamon was gravely ill and was not expected to live much longer. When Alistair asked for details he was told that Eamon had been poisoned and the mage responsible was currently in the dungeon. "Is my brother aware?"

Teagan cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "I have not informed his Majesty as yet." He buckled beneath Alistair's intense stare. "Forgive me Alistair, but the mage is adamant that he was hired on orders of the King."

Alistair glared fiercely. "Are you suggesting my brother tried to have Eamon assassinated?"

Teagan pulled at his fingers in agitation. "I am aware my brother has been a little, indelicate regarding the King's current marriage."

"My brother's only marriage." Alistair corrected. "I would speak to this mage myself."

Alistair had returned to his own room an hour later, pacing its length in frustration. He had spoken with the mage alone who had confirmed that to his knowledge the King had hired him. The man was clearly terrified and he saw only truth in his eyes. Alistair had managed to pin the mage down to specifics and discovered to his horror that Loghain had hired him directly, with the agreement that an issue with the circle would be resolved for his service. Alistair had never liked politics. He hated the intrigue inspired at court and was more than happy to dissolve into the background. Yet he found it hard to believe that his brother and Loghain would hire an assassin, especially one who had broken so easily.

**xXx**

Grace relaxed into one of the most comfortable beds she had ever been in. She curled into the thick coverings and just for a moment imagined herself at home and that her journey in Ferelden was a dream. But home too held pain and there was no escape from her dark thoughts. She rose and paced the room before slipping into the corridor. She hesitated at Anders door, fist raised to knock, but instead placed her fingers to the wood and sighed wondering if the friendship she held so dear to her heart could ever be repaired. She turned at a tapping noise, noticing a young boy peep his head out of a door at the far end of the corridor gazing at her with wide eyes before darting back inside. Grace had the fleeting thought to keep away, but she recognised the boy as Conner and he had looked afraid. He watched her guiltily as she entered. Grace felt the change of energy and hesitated. "Conner what have you done?"

"I'm saving my father." He yelled, thrusting a book into her hands and running out of the room slamming the door behind him.

Grace stared startled and then felt the hairs prickling on the back of her neck. Slowly she turned, her breath catching at the demon standing before her. Its body was that of a woman of sorts, though its skin had a lilac sheen and a faint stream of pink energy nestled between horns curling from her head. Grace backed towards the door; her eyes fixed on the demon who watched her with a calculating curiosity, the book having fallen to the floor. Her hand found the handle and she tugged fiercely, panicked when the door would not open. Turning her back on the demon she yanked at the door, hissing in frustration when it remained closed. She felt nails against her neck and froze.

"I could give him to you." The demon purred continuing to stroke her neck, her breath hot against Grace's skin. "The Prince will never truly be yours, but I could change that."

Grace felt energy move around her making it hard for her to think. "And why would you do that?" She managed to grind out through clenched teeth.

"Let me join with you, you have so much potential."

Forcing herself to turn she held back the scream that threatened to burst from her throat. The demon's eyes were black voids that pulsated with a life of their own. She saw herself reflected in them; the Archdemon behind her, its song streaming through her veins. A whimper left her lips as the demon moved closer, her body pressing Grace's to the door.

"So much power." The demon moved her hand slowly up Grace's arm to her jaw, vaguely reminiscent of Alistair. "You have but to ask and I would give you your heart's desire."

Grace was lost in her eyes; lost in the song, lost in the gaze of the Archdemon.

"Or perhaps the fallen Templar. I can bring him back."

The world fell away from Grace. To have Cullen back and erase Anders agony was what she wanted above all things. It seemed forever that she stared into the void. _You can't bargain with a demon. No matter how much you want to change the past_. "Go to hell." She sobbed bitterly.

"The boy is mine." The demon purred backing away. "I will not give him up."

As the demon vanished Grace leaned back against the door sinking to the floor, praying no one found out how close she had come to making a deal.

**xXx**

Grace left the room, searching in vain for Conner. Her fear at the destruction he and the demon were capable of filled her with dread. She raced down the stairs into the main hall. Conner was standing next to his mother, her arm protectively around his shoulders. Teagan was speaking to Alistair and Duncan and the others were sitting at tables startled by her abrupt appearance.

"Grace."

She was aware of Alistair's voice, but didn't take her eyes from the boy. He gave her a malevolent grin and her fists clenched.

"Grace what's wrong?" Alistair was beside her demanding her attention.

"We have a problem." Her eyes still locked on the boy.

"Grace." Alistair spoke gently, his hand caressing her cheek startling her at his open affection in front of the nobles. "Do not fight her. She can bring Cullen back, is that not what you wish?"

She gasped backing away. Arms grabbed her and Anders span her around.

"You owe me Grace. You took him from me, now you can bring him back."

_This isn't real._ "No. Not like this!" She pulled free and ran for the doors.

**xXx**

The light was so bright that Grace was momentarily blinded. She felt herself shaken and her vision cleared.

"Snap out of it Grace." Duncan yelled.

She felt the pounding of her heart, felt the metallic taste of blood in her mouth and struggled against the exhaustion pressing in on her. She glanced around her trying to get her bearings. They had come to the Circle to save the boy. It had seemed like a life time ago. They had fought so many demons and abominations it felt like that was all she had ever done. Uldred was gazing at her like a parent would a favourite child.

"Truly magnificent." He leaned closer. "Mages are the larval form of something far greater and you, you are so much more. Join me."

Grace heard it then, the purring of a thousand voices reaching out to claim her soul. The demons pressed in on her; surrounding her with their chorus of promises, whispering of secrets and desires.

A shade of Cullen appeared by her side, his words whispered softly in her ear. "Help me Grace."

She closed her eyes desperate to block them out.

"Grace."

A woman's voice tugged at her and her eyes flew open. A soft hand rested against her cheek and lips pressed to her forehead.

"Grace please."

Looking into her mother's eyes Grace felt her heart spasm. She gave a scream of rage and the Fade shifted.

The demon sat at the head of a large table her eyes fixed on her. "Fascinating."

Grace looked around her, aching at the loss of her mother again. "Enough games." She spat.

"But I could give you so much and I ask so little in return."

"I will make no bargain with you demon!"

"Very well." The demon rose gracefully to her feet, energy flickering at her fingertips. "Tis a shame, I would have liked you for my own."

"Sorry to disappoint." Grace mocked, hurling a fire ball. The demon snarled, throwing Grace backwards with the force of an energy blast. Grace slammed against the floor, her muscles aching, the demons whispering to her to submit. She focused on the child, the boy who had ripped a hole in the Fade to save his father. As foolish as that had been she understood his motivations and wondered if she would have acted any differently in his place.

**xXx**

Alistair was glaring at Anders. "You are a bloody mage, do something. Help her!"

"There's nothing I can do." His tone was horrified. "She's in the Fade."

"Well get her back; close the rift, do something, anything!"

"I don't have the power! Don't you think I would go in there and get her myself if I could. If we had more Lyrium; more mages I could, but we don't."

"There's the mage in the dungeon." Teagan interjected carefully. "Shall I get him?"

"Hurry." Alistair commanded.

Anders almost choked when Teagan returned with Jowan. The mage had clearly been tortured, his robes ripped and blood stained. Their eyes met and Anders was lost for words.

"Anders."

The rough voice made Anders ache and he was on his feet, pulling his friend into his embrace.

"Jowan." He managed at last, pressing his forehead into his friends shoulder. "What have you done?"

Jowan under the guise of hugging his friend whispered in his ear that he had poisoned the Arl under the instructions of the King himself.

Anders froze, panic filling him.

"When you two are quite finished with your reunion." Alistair growled. "Would you mind turning your attention to helping Grace?"

Anders pulled back, his face white with shock. He quickly explained that they had come across Connor running from the study, his face white and shaking badly. He had burst into tears repeating over and over again he had done it to help his father. They had eventually discovered that Connor had inadvertently summoned a demon while trying to find a way to help him. "The demon apparently said it would cure his father in exchange for Grace. Prince Alistair had to break down the door to get to her and when we found her she was already in the Fade." Anders rubbed his forehead. "Jowan her pulse and breathing are faint and the Circle is too far away to get help in time."

"We could both use regeneration spells." Jowan suggested hesitantly. "It might give her the strength to get out herself."

Anders was already moving to her side, his hands glowing with the healing energy. He bent low to her ear, ignoring Alistair's curious stare. "If you die I'm going to come into the Fade and kick your arse. Don't you dare leave me, not until I've at least had a chance to apologise."

Bursts of energy flowed through Grace's body and she was sure she had heard Anders voice. She tried to follow it; to anchor herself to him, relieved he was close.

"Can you kill me my darling?"

Grace reeled back in shock, as the demon took on the form of her mother. She was holding out her hands, her smiling face tearing at Grace's heart. _It's not real. It's not real. _

"Grace please don't leave me, not again."

Grace shuddered as the hand caressed her face, her mother's voice spearing her soul. _It's not real. It's not real_. A final burst of energy and she exploded in light, thrusting the demon from her and shattering her with the blow. _Forgive me. _A tugging sensation started in her stomach; rising to her chest, moving down her legs and across her arms until the Fade lost its hold. Grace opened her eyes to find Anders and Alistair staring down at her. She closed her eyes again, too raw to deal with their questions. She was aware that someone was sobbing, realising with some surprise that it was herself. She was encased in warm arms and was gently being rocked. She leaned into Alistair, her hands resting on his chest using the beat of his heart to steady her own. She sobbed for Cullen; for Anders, for her mother and sister and for herself. "Conner?" She finally managed to ask, her voice raw.

"He is safe." Alistair said gently.

Grace looked up searching for Duncan, her eyes pleading as he knelt beside her. "Duncan, don't ever make me go to the Circle."

He lowered his gaze that was one request he couldn't grant.


	17. Lies and Lovers

The majority of the party had agreed to remain at Redcliffe for a few days, allowing Grace to recuperate after her harrowing ordeal in the Fade and giving them time to resupply.

Duncan was fully aware of how influential the Arl was and the support of his troops were necessary. It was for this reason that Duncan had agreed to Isolde's request that they seek out the Urn of Sacred Ashes, in the hopes of curing him. To that effect Danforth, Maverin and Gavarth were sent to Denerim to seek out Brother Genitivi, with instructions to meet back with the main group at the Circle of Magi.

**xXx**

Grace had refused to speak about her experience in the Fade, but her dreams tormented her and her companions heard enough from her screams to have a good idea of what had happened.

Alistair found himself outside her door yet again, desperate to comfort her.

"Still not plucked up the courage to go in yet?"

Alistair turned to Aedan and sighed, leaning heavily against the door. "I do not want her to think I am expecting something else."

"She needs someone to break down that barrier of hers. I can't think of anyone better." Aedan squeezed his shoulder before returning to his room.

Alistair caught a brief glance of Leliana sleeping in his bed. Taking a deep breath he knocked and entered the room. Grace was thrashing about on the bed, the sheets wound so tightly around her body it was a wonder she could move at all. A scream left her lips and she woke with a start her eyes fixing on him. Moments passed as they stared at each other. "You were screaming again." He gently helped her to release herself from the sheets and she curled against him, grateful for his warmth. "What did you see in the Fade?" He asked the question without expecting an answer, having asked it several times already.

"Cullen and...and my mother." She whispered at last.

Alistair clung to the small nugget of information, hoping it was a sign that she was at last going to open up to him.

"Are you going back to Denerim soon?"

He sighed realising she was going to give no further details. "I have to; there are matters that must be dealt with."

"Do you think Loghain and the King really wanted Eamon dead?"

"Nothing much escapes you does it." He mumbled, kissing the top of her head.

"I have ears Alistair, the whole Castle is a rumour mill."

"I cannot believe it of them, but at the same time Eamon has a way of overstepping his boundaries."

"How do you feel about us going for the Ashes if Cailan wants him dead?"

Alistair groaned. "The whole thing is a bloody nightmare. I cannot believe my brother would do this. Eamon is family, it must be a mistake."

Grace twisted in his arms and rose to her knees so she was face to face with the Prince. Her arms wound around his neck, her fingers gently moving through the soft length of his hair. "You suit long hair." She murmured, pressing her lips to his. She sighed as he pulled her tight, his tongue lingering against hers. "When will you leave?"

"The day after tomorrow. I expect that will be when Duncan plans to set out."

"Just two nights."

He looked at her startled, his breath catching at the sheer look of need in her eyes. She kissed him deeply, gently running her thumb over the light stubble on his jaw. The moan that escaped him sent a delicious tingle to her core and she slowly ran a hand beneath his tunic, fingertips tracing his soft skin and hard muscle. He whimpered as she lightly kissed his throat; gently grazing the skin with her teeth, softly nipping his ear. Alistair's hands were in her hair; his lips hungry for hers once more, slipping the shirt over her head, his fingers gently learning the soft curves of her body. She pulled his tunic off and slowly kissed her way down his chest, her tongue gently teasing his nipples. She was unfastening his breeches and he inhaled sharply as she ran her tongue over his swollen length; his hands clutching the blanket he was now laying on. She used her tongue lovingly, his head arching back as he gave a deep moan. He shuddered as she took him deeply into her mouth, the sensation nearly finishing him right then. Alistair closed his eyes and fell into bliss. There were so many sensations and despite having imagined this many times, it far surpassed his wildest fantasy. With a groan of regret he begged her to stop; knowing he couldn't last much longer, pulling her up the bed and pressing his body gently down against hers. His growl of desire sent a sharp wave of pleasure through her. She closed her eyes as he kissed down her throat, his tongue swirling against her skin. Her eyes fluttered open and she gasped as Alistair gently flicked his tongue over her nipple, gently caressing her breasts with firm fingers. He continued kissing and exploring her body, moving gently between her legs. She gave a sharp intake of breath as he trailed his tongue between her thighs; losing herself to the sensations, crying out as her body seemed to erupt into a thousand tiny bursts of intense throbbing. He kissed his way back up her body; gazing adoringly at her flushed cheeks, her closed eyes, her lips parted slightly as her breathing slowly returned to normal. Grace sighed contentedly and gazed at him, his hazel eyes seemed to pierce her soul with his urgent need.

"I've never done this before." He whispered, his eyes seeking her reaction nervously.

Grace tenderly ran her fingers across his jaw. "That makes two of us."

The desire in her eyes made him forget his lack of experience, forget that she was a mage and he was a Prince. He had waited so long, a life time it seemed for the beautiful woman who was setting his body on fire with her touch. His lips and tongue left a fiery trail across her throat and breasts; his body moving against hers, encouraged by her gasping breaths and moans of pleasure.

Grace trembled as the exquisite sensations started to build up again. She lost herself in him. The delicious feel of his lips on her skin; his fingers caressing her body, the heat of him thrusting so deep it tore the cries from her lips.

He felt the rush of his climax surge through him and as he cried out Grace arched beneath him lost in a wild joy that left her body trembling. He collapsed against her breathing heavily, his body shaking with exertion. Moments passed as they clung to each other before Alistair carefully moved to her side so as not to crush her and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her flushed cheeks and soft lips. "Thank you." He whispered.

Grace smiled running her fingers through his hair. He was so beautiful to her, he made her heart ache. She leaned forward capturing his lips in a tender kiss, wishing this moment could last forever.

**xXx**

Jowan had been taken back to the dungeon when Grace awoke from the Fade, on the orders of Teagan and this was where Anders had spent most of his time since. He leaned against the cell door, his fingers wrapping around the bars. He gave a shuddering sigh as Jowan's hands rested lightly on his own, both men pressing their foreheads against the metal.

"I really did love him." Anders whispered.

Jowan's fingers began to move in small circular motions, gently caressing the skin of the hands beneath his.

"I miss him so much."

"I never understood how you could love a Templar, but I'm sorry. I missed you Anders, life just hasn't been the same without you."

Anders looked at Jowan in concern. "Jowan, what happened that led you to poisoning the Arl? Please tell me."

Jowan sighed, fixing his friend with a look of despair. "They were going to make me tranquil." He inwardly smiled at Anders hissed breath and shocked look. He knew his friend well and exactly what buttons to press.

"Why?"

"After you left Ser Mavin focused his attention on me for a while."

Anders gripped his hands, his face falling.

"He was never as violent as he had been with you, but...he was enthusiastic none the less."

A small whimper left Anders mouth as he gripped his friend tighter, frustrated at the bars between them.

"I started planning a way to escape. They branded me a blood mage. I managed to get out; but they caught up to me, damn phylactery. I tried to get to it to destroy it; but it was too well guarded, so I had to take my chances. I don't know why Loghain was there, but he gave me the opportunity to clear my name. I'd do anything to avoid being made tranquil."

Anders nodded slowly, having much the same view himself.

Jowan felt relief at how easily Anders accepted his words. He felt a small twinge of guilt as Ser Mavin had never been near him, but to escape he would need Anders help. "Anders, I need to get out of here. You know they will execute me, or worse make me Tranquil. Help me escape, unless of course you can get that fiery vixen of the Prince's to get him to back off."

Anders pulled his hands from the bars. "Don't talk about Grace like that." He muttered.

"Come on Anders, we both know mages like her. Whoring herself for freedom."

"I said enough Jowan. You don't know Grace. It's not like that."

"Suit yourself. Wait, oh Makers breath Anders you have a thing for her don't you."

Anders just glared.

"Well I hope she's good in bed if you have to share her."

Jowan found himself sprawled on the cell floor rubbing his fast bruising jaw.

**xXx**

Grace lay in bed watching Alistair get dressed. He placed a gentle kiss on her nose before leaving the room to get them some food. Restlessly she wrapped a blanket around herself and went to the window that looked onto the training yard. They were due to leave today and Grace dreaded being apart from Alistair, as much as she ached to be in Anders company. He barely looked at her anymore and as of yesterday had deliberately avoided her. She rested her head against the stone and sighed deeply. She wanted to be his friend again, but had no idea how to do that if he wasn't even speaking to her.

"Missing me already?"

She smiled; trembling slightly as Alistair wound his arms around her waist, kissing his way from her shoulder to her ear. "Always." She murmured turning and kissing him gently, memorising the taste of his lips, the feel of his fingers entwined with hers.

He cupped her cheek looking at her intently. "This is about Anders."

Grace looked at him in confusion. "What is?"

"The reason you look so sad. Grace, what happened with Cullen was not your fault and one day he will be able to see that. He was genuinely worried for you while you were trapped in the Fade."

She sighed; leaning against him, her head tucked beneath his chin. "I don't know what to do Alistair. I want my friend back."

Alistair sighed knowing full well her feelings for the mage ran deeper than friendship. "Give him time." He managed to say.

She nodded and pulling back gave him a smile that made his heart leap. She took his hand and pulled him back to the bed. "If we have to say goodbye, let's say it properly." She murmured; all thoughts of food forgotten, losing herself in the arms of her warrior Prince.

**xXx**

Anders carefully sneaked back into the dungeon on the morning they were leaving, quietly unlocking the cell door and leaving a supply pack by the wall. Jowan appeared to be sleeping and Anders was still too angry with him to want to speak to him. He turned to leave and heard movement behind him.

"Anders wait." Jowan grasped him firmly having slipped out of the cell.

"Just wait until we leave before you go. I don't want them thinking the Wardens had anything to do with your escape."

"You're a good friend Anders, and I'm sorry about what I said the other day."

Anders nodded and moved slightly, surprised when Jowan did not let go of his arm. Instead the mage pressed Anders tight against the wall, his lips tantalisingly close. Anders shivered gazing at him warily.

Jowan cupped his cheek tenderly. "I always wondered what it would be like to kiss you."

Anders whimpered as his friends lips gently caressed his, tugging gently at his bottom lip. Tears slipped down his cheeks.

Jowan pulled back startled. The two men looked at each other without moving. "My apologies my friend." Jowan stated a little stiffly.

Anders closed his eyes forcing himself to regain his composure. "I'm sorry Jowan. I can't."

"Could you if _she_ was kissing you?" The jealousy in his voice was unmistakable.

Anders looked away his heart pounding. "It's just too soon." He mumbled moving towards the door.

"Anders." The two men locked eyes. "Thank you for my freedom."

Anders nodded and left.

Jowan pushed the dark hair from his face, his heart thudding. He grabbed the pack and made a quick check on the contents. His dark eyes shifted restlessly to the door Anders had left by and his hands curled into fists. First the Templar and now this woman had taken Anders from him. Jowan scowled fiercely determined that one day the young mage would be his.


	18. Assassins and Bards

Leliana was intrigued by Travis's skills of manipulation. She would have been impressed if his attentions were not directed at the two mages she had developed a fondness for, determined to make what was already a painful situation far worse. Convinced that he had received training as a bard, she had been careful to dumb down her own considerable skills in his presence. She had debated with herself at length about alerting the Warden's to the many messages he had been sending. However; as she had been unable to intercept them and therefore had no knowledge of their content, Leliana felt she had no grounds to air her suspicions that he was behind the numerous Templar assaults that had dogged the initial stage of their journey.

Contrary to her Bard Master's opinion, Leliana did have a conscience and was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with her current assignment. She found she was unable to rationalise her own actions, while abhorring them in Travis and the protective side to her nature was raising its head. She enjoyed Grace's company, especially since she had started to open up to her. The young mage had been through so much and yet seemed more concerned with the wellbeing of her companions than herself. Leliana smiled as she remembered Grace chatting to her about family and somehow she had gotten out of the bard the flowers that reminded her of her mother. Several days later a blushing Aedan had presented her with a small bunch of Andraste's Grace and that had been it, the cliff she had been standing on shifted and she was now teetering on the edge.

Leliana had been more than a little shocked to discover the young mage was involved with a Prince; but she also saw how her eyes lingered on Anders with an ache she had been quick to disguise, when she realised Leliana was watching. They mages still had not spoken; Anders keeping his distance, particularly when he realised her relationship with Alistair had become more intimate. Aedan often mentioned his concerns for them both. It made her heart pound at his tenderness towards them. _I don't love him_. She found herself reciting almost daily.

Leliana glanced at Aedan who was sleeping peacefully; though moments ago he had cried out in torment, which is what had woken her. She was not looking forward to reaching Denerim where her mission would find its completion and her lover would most likely find himself dead. She ran her beautiful hands over his bare chest and kissed him gently. _Make the most of this Leliana, he will be gone soon_. She gave a sad sigh and nestled into him, realising somewhat late that she was becoming too attached.

**xXx**

The road to the Circle of Magi was dry and dusty making them cough irritably. Grace longed for a bath, preferably with Alistair and she grinned in spite of herself. She ached for his presence and as they had gone their separate ways that morning she felt a part of her leave with him.

"Watch out!" Anders yelled pushing her out of the way of a falling tree.

She glanced at him startled as they found themselves surrounded. _How did that happen!_

"The Abomination dies here!" An elf with an Antivan accent yelled.

_Zevran!_ Her heart filled with joy and then just as quickly fear as she realised arrows were raining down on her and only Duncan's shield prevented her from being injured or killed. She froze the archers to her left as Leliana fired her own arrows to the archers on the right. Aedan; Anders, Hunter and Shadow followed by Duncan were ploughing a path down the centre. Grace ran after them; terrified that they would hurt Zevran, barely registering that Travis was keeping well back from the fighting.

Grace froze as she found herself face to face with the elven assassin. His eyes narrowed and he twirled his daggers almost teasingly. With a growl he launched at her. Darting back she fired spells to distract and drain. Suddenly she was pinned against a rock face, his blade plummeting towards her. She was roughly shoved out of the way by Anders who gave a groan before collapsing to his knees on the ground. The blast of energy she created sent Zevran flying into the hillside. She moved to Anders; his face pale, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his face. "Anders?" Her hand pressed to his side to help him stand, feeling it become wet and stared wide eyed at the blood soaking into his robe. "Anders, why did you do that?" She gasped; helping him to rest against the large rock beside him, pulling back his robes to better see the wound.

"I couldn't lose you too." He whispered; his eyes careful to look anywhere, but at her.

"And you think I can lose you?" Her panic making her angry.

"Grace I'm so sorry. I should have realised Travis was just baiting me to get to you." He raised his eyes desperately seeking her reaction, groaning as she pressed a cloth to his wound to stem the flow of blood.

"Hush, it doesn't matter."

"Yes it does. I was a fool."

"Anders, be quiet and let me heal this." The wound slowly knitted together Grace hissing in alarm as the wound re-opened.

Anders cried out in pain, squeezing his eyes shut. "Poison." He managed to whisper before losing consciousness.

Grace looked up her eyes focusing on Zevran who they had kept alive for questioning. Duncan was already demanding to know what poison had been used, but the assassin was keeping his mouth firmly closed. Grace glanced at Anders, his breathing was erratic and his pale face was taking on a greyish colour. _I can't lose you. I won't lose you! _Leliana knelt beside her with Aedan. "Watch him." She whispered. Grace rose to her feet and walked over to Zevran. His eyes widened at her approach. Crackles of blue energy were darting around her becoming more intense the nearer she got to him. "Listen to me assassin and listen well." She hunkered down next to him, her eyes blazing with rage, but her voice cold, menacing and terrifying. "You think the crows are masters of pain, they won't have a patch on me. I will devote myself to making sure you have a very long, very painful life." She pressed the fingertips of her right hand against his chest and sent a surge of lightening through him that made his body arch and shake violently. He clenched his teeth to hold back the scream, but as she sent a second pulse he couldn't hold it back. "Give me the name of the poison, right now!" Zevran's response was barely a whisper as his head slumped forward. Grace glanced to Leliana who was already getting the antidote from her pack. Grace left the shaking elf and darted back to Anders, gently raising his head while the bard tipped the contents of the bottle into his mouth.

"Set camp." Duncan ordered his Wardens. "We'll be here for the night."

**xXx**

_Anders found himself in the hut he had spent those first few weeks with Cullen. He shook his head struggling to remember how he had gotten there._

"_Anders." _

_The young mage raised his head. Chocolate brown eyes regarded him warmly, reddish hair glinted in the sun streaming through the open door and that muscled chest bare, arms folded leaning against the door frame. "Cullen." He gasped; flinging himself at the Templar, sobbing and kissing him hungrily. _

_Cullen wrapped his arms around him, returning the kisses until Anders urgency calmed. _

"_I'm dead then." Anders whispered, not minding in the least if it meant being in Cullen's arms._

"_Not quite." Cullen's voice was gentle as he cupped his lovers cheek in his hand, his thumb caressing the smooth skin._

"_I'm not leaving." Anders mumbled, his lip trembling._

"_It's not your time Anders." _

_The mage wept openly, pressing himself firmly against his lover. "Please don't make me go back. I can't do this without you." _

_Cullen smiled and tilted Anders head back, kissing him lovingly. "I'm always with you." He whispered. "When your time comes, I'll be waiting right here for you." _

_With a choked sob Anders clung to Cullen as he began to fade. "I love you Cullen, I'm so sorry for everything."_

**xXx**

Grace curled up next to Anders in his tent, as he fought the poison in his system. The antidote seemed to be having little effect. Her thoughts were random, shifting restlessly over their time together good and bad. Her heart felt crushed and she was terrified that he would die.

"Cullen!" He cried out in panic, whimpering and moaning.

Grace carefully brushed away the tears when he started to cry. "I won't let you go Anders. I'll make a damn deal with a demon if I have to; fight the Maker himself, but I swear Anders I won't let you die." Gently she smoothed away a stray strand of blond hair from his feverish skin, forcing herself not to cry.

"Grace." His voice was weak and trembling.

"I'm here." She bent low so their faces were almost touching. "I will always be here for you." She closed her eyes as his fingers gently caressed her cheek. Catching his hand she pressed her lips to his palm, tears slipping silently onto his skin.

**xXx**

Zevran found himself thoroughly confused. There was no doubt his intended target terrified him, but she appeared to have the respect and friendship of many she travelled with and as far as he could tell they were not enthralled. The rope bit into his flesh, but he didn't mind so much as it kept him awake. The after effects of Grace's attention had been brief, but he had no doubt she could change that very easily. The Warden's had been stalking around him and if looks could kill he would have been dead several times over. Added to that having two mabari glaring at him was not something Zevran wished to encourage.

Aedan approached the assassin. He was clearly exhausted; although more relaxed now Anders was out of danger, the antidote finally dealing with the poison. "Why?"

Zevran watched the man giving no comment. A blade bit into the flesh at his throat and he glanced at his new attacker. Duncan growled a deep feral noise that frightened Zevran more than any blade could. "It was a contract, to kill the abomination."

"What abomination?" Duncan snarled in frustration.

"That would be me I guess." Grace muttered. The same facial tattoo, the same blond hair tied back with a braid. The same handsome face, but his eyes were so hostile. _He doesn't know you and you don't know him! _"Who took out the contract?"

Zevran found himself sinking into her golden eyes and felt a pull towards her, as though he was somehow on the wrong side. "The Chantry." He took grim satisfaction in the horror his comment caused to the group.

Grace's head swam and she felt sick, taking an involuntary step backwards. _The Chantry take out contracts with the Crows!_ Grace closed her eyes forcing herself to breath normally. "Who in the Chantry?"

"The name was not divulged to me."

Grace nodded, barely noticing the stunned reactions of her friends. She looked up and met Travis's furious glare directed at the assassin who had given the information so freely and rose to her feet understanding dawning. "Didn't want to get your hands dirty?" Nausea and fury lodging in her throat.

"Apostate!" He hissed, aware of the astonished stares of his fellow Wardens. "Everything was fine before you came. Bloody Templar's couldn't even do their own rite properly."

Grace felt as though she had taken a blow to the stomach.

"You told them to do the rite!" Anders hissed in fury.

Grace turned startled to see him staggering out of the tent; his arm holding his injured side protectively, his body still weak from the poison. She hurried to his side. "You should be resting." Her focus on Travis completely diverted as she encouraged him to lean on her.

"I'm well enough to deal with this bastard." He glared fiercely at Travis, who stared at him scornfully.

"Please Anders you need to rest."

Anders consented to sitting on a large flat rock, his eyes never leaving the rogue.

Travis glared at Duncan. "I don't know why you protect her from the Templar's, she's a danger to us all. If she'd left well alone Cullen wouldn't be dead and Anders wouldn't have been hurt."

Grace gave a shuddering breath. Despite him voicing her own thoughts it was still painful to hear.

"Without her we would all have died at Ostagar you fool!" Duncan growled, taking a step towards him. "No one could have predicted what would happen to Cullen and I made the decision to go and who to take, not Grace. That Anders was hurt is _your_ doing!"

Grace sank back against a rock; her eyes closed, as the ramifications of what Travis had done washed over her. "You told the Chantry I still have access to magic." Her tone was soft, only hinting at the terror coursing through her.

Zevran watched startled, the fierce woman who had threatened him with a lifetime of pain suddenly looked vulnerable, lost and very young.

"I did."

His smug tone was more than she could take and she glared at him. "You risked the life of every Warden here just to see me dead."

Travis flushed. "They were just supposed to be incapacitated."

"Anders nearly died!" She yelled, her body shaking. She crossed the ground between them her face flushed with anger and lunged forward grabbing a dagger from his belt. To her companion's horror and the astonishment of Zevran, she grabbed Travis's wrist and pushed the dagger into his hand, pressing the tip of the blade towards her heart. "Be a man and do it yourself." She roared. She heard cries of alarm and erected a shield barrier around them that the Wardens were unable to penetrate, despite their best efforts. "Do it Travis." She snarled. "Kill me; or stay the hell away from me, but no-one else will die because of me."

Travis glanced at the blade and then into her eyes. His confusion tore at him; he saw a young woman, furious, in pain and scared, but despite everything she had experienced she had not transformed into the demon he assumed her to be. The dagger fell from his grasp.

Breathing heavily Grace released the shield and Aedan and Anders gripped her arms, pulling her roughly back.

"To try to harm one of our own is inexcusable." Duncan hissed his face dark with rage and frustration.

"She isn't one of us." The rogue hissed back, his hatred and confusion making him tremble.

"We can no longer trust you Travis. You will be reassigned to Weisshaupt."

"What! No, you can't do that. Ferelden is my home."

"Your actions leave me no choice."

Travis moved back; glaring at Grace he threw down a smoke bomb, vanishing in the way that made him so effective in battle.

They stared stunned for several moments. Duncan knew Travis's skills well and feared what the disappearance of the rogue would mean for them.

Anders held onto Grace, his rage at her actions dying at the look of anguish on her face. He pulled her into his arms. "I don't know what gets into you sometimes." He whispered, unable to erase the image of the dagger at her breast.

"I couldn't bear it if anyone else died because of me." Her eyes met his. "I couldn't bear it if you died because of me." His breath caught at her look before she lowered her head struggling to master herself. It threw him completely to realise her depth of feeling for him.

Taking a deep breath Grace looked up at Duncan. "I guess this is where we part ways."

"What are you talking about Grace?" Duncan felt his anxiety rise and noticed Anders grip on her tighten as though afraid she would disappear as Travis had.

"If the Chantry itself is after me they won't stop. You will be in danger just being with me."

"Grace, let me make this very plain. I am your Commander." He held up his hand to silence her protest. "You are a recruit; joined or not, therefore you will acknowledge I have the final say in this. You are staying. We need you." He added softly.

Aedan moved to the assassin and hunkered down looking him in the eyes. "I am assuming the Crows will attack again."

"Until the contract is fulfilled they will keep coming." Zevran shook his head at his predicament. "It would be better if you killed me now. Better to die by your hand then by the Crows."

Aedan nodded knowing well the reputation of the Crows. Failure was unacceptable. "I will make it quick, which is more than you deserve."

"No!" Anders said quickly surprising them all. He knelt down beside the assassin, holding his injured side. "How much do you want to live?"

Zevran regarded the man curiously. "I cannot return to the Crows even if I would wish to. I have failed and the punishment for failure is death, harsh but there it is. However I have no wish to die, if you allowed me to live I would use my skills to aid you. I am intimately familiar with the Crows and their wily ways and I can alert you to any further attacks."

Anders turned to Duncan. "I know you'll think I'm mad; but I really think we should take him with us and you heard him, he can warn us about any other attacks."

Duncan stared at him stunned. "You can't be serious, you expect us to take the assassin with us?"

Anders glanced to Grace. "He could be useful."

Grace looked from Anders; to Zevran, to Duncan who looked as though he was about to explode.

"Am I even the Commander anymore?" The older man spluttered.

Grace felt a smile tugging her lips as she looked back at Anders. "I have no objection, but the decision rests with Duncan."

Duncan struggled to maintain his composure. "Grace, do you have a death wish? He was hired to kill you. I do not think it is sensible to keep him alive."

"Anders was the one who got hurt; if he wants the assassin with us I'm not going to argue. Besides, keep your friends close and your enemies closer, isn't that sound strategy?" _Although that didn't work out so well with Travis_.

Duncan's hands fell to his sides. "Madness!"

Grace looked at him expectantly and grudgingly he gave a nod. Grace walked back over to Zevran, untied him and pulled him to his feet. Her hand remained clasped to his and he eyed her warily.

"If you try to hurt anyone here I will kill you, are we understood?" He nodded. "Good, I'm Grace and contrary to popular belief I am NOT an abomination."

"Zevran Arainai at your service."


	19. Rifts in Royalty

Alistair stormed through the corridors of the Palace, not bothering to knock as he entered his brother's study.

Cailan and Loghain looked up startled. "Brother." Cailan smiled standing up and crossing the room, clasping Alistair's arms firmly in his. "It is good that you have returned and so soon."

"We need to talk brother." Alistair ground out.

Cailan had rarely seen his brother so angry. "Loghain, please leave us."

"No." Alistair kicked the door shut behind him. "This concerns him too."

Loghain raised an eyebrow, but returned to his seat.

"What is this about brother?" Cailan indicated a seat as he retook his own, uncomfortable when Alistair remained standing.

"Two words, Arl Eamon."

Cailan sat rigid, his face impenetrable. "What of the Arl?"

"I need the truth from you. Did you order his assassination?"

"He is dead then."

Alistair felt his heart sink at the relief on his brother's face. "No, he is not and the Wardens have been sent on a wild goose chase by Isolde to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes to cure him. They should be gathering what forces they need to slay the Archdemon, not wasting time looking for a bloody relic!"

Loghain paled. "Why would the Warden's search for the Ashes?"

"Because Eamon has a lot of men and they weren't at Ostagar! They hope to persuade him to lend them to the cause." Alistair was astonished at having to state the obvious. "And since when did you start sanctioning assassinations?"

Cailan stared wearily at Alistair. "Since I took the throne." He muttered. "Sometimes there just isn't any other way."

Alistair sat down heavily on a chair, staring from his brother to Loghain, wondering how he could be so naïve. "He is family Cailan." Alistair's words were barely a whisper. He took a deep breath. His brother didn't look in the slightest bit bothered and Alistair began to wonder if he knew him at all. "So what happens now? Whether the Arl survives or not this could mean civil war."

"Disposing of his family and that mage would be difficult, but not impossible." Cailan mused.

Alistair felt the colour drain from his face. "They are _family_!" He hissed; lurching from the chair, slamming his fist into the desk. "Or does that mean nothing to you?"

"I do what I must for the country Alistair."

"How is this of any benefit to the country?" Alistair's chest was heaving in his fury.

Cailan rose a cold look entering his eyes. "I am the King Alistair, perhaps you should remember that!"

Alistair stared at him stunned, a dark flush colouring his cheeks. He moved back from the desk. "Of course your Majesty." He stated, swallowing hard. "If you will excuse me."

Cailan turned to Loghain as Alistair left the study, his gaze intense. "Will he stand with me, or against me?"

Loghain shook his head. "He is your brother, think carefully before you speak further."

Cailan rubbed his forehead taking another sip of the drink Anora had been making for him each afternoon. He had been feeling weary of late and Anora advised him the tonic would help. He sighed deeply, he could not afford disloyalty. "He is my half-brother Loghain and if he persists with this attitude, he is a potential threat to this throne."

Loghain felt his gut twist, gulping the remains of his wine. "Make no rash decisions Cailan. Alistair is young; hot headed, but he loves you."

Cailan nodded, but felt his heart ready to close itself to Alistair if necessity demanded it.

**xXx**

Alistair retired to his rooms in embarrassment and frustration. Cailan had not spoken to him like that since they were children. He sat on the edge of the bed and loosened his braids running his fingers through his hair. "Maker this is such a mess."

He lay back on the bed, his thoughts drifting to Grace. His mind conjured the image of her in his arms; the taste of her lips, the feel of her skin pressed against his. Alistair groaned he would give anything not to be a Prince. He was a warrior; not a politician and he hated the restrictions, obligations and demands being tied to the court created.

He moved to the tiny chest he kept locked in the drawer of his desk pulling out the velvet pouch and staring at the ring, the only thing he had of his mother. The ring was made up of three bands of gold interweaving with each other; a sapphire, flanked by two diamonds gleaming at the joining sections. He had no idea who his mother was; the rumours had always been she had been a servant, but he had never quite believed that.

The flare of an idea ignited as he stared at the ring in the palm of his hand. A way to be with the woman he was falling in love with. His mind shied from it; his obligations pressing in on him, but once had, the thought would not be silent and wormed its way into every waking moment.

**xXx**

Anora had listened to the argument between the brothers and quietly crept away before Alistair left, realising that the time for her to implement her plan could be delayed no longer. She hurried to her private rooms. Her plan had been born when she had seen the letter from the Arl to her husband and realised that her hold on Cailan; as binding as it was, might falter beneath increased political pressure. Anora was no fool and had no intention of losing her current station.

It had taken some time to find a mage with the talents required and one who would not be missed. Her plan required secrecy and the mage was kept locked in a room at all times. Even Cailan did not know of her. Anora had been surprised at how happy the mage was with their arrangement. Still locked away; but without Templar's to terrorise her, the mage had felt a new lease of life and felt deeply indebted to the Queen, who used that to her advantage.

Anora unlocked the cabinet and smiled at the rows of vials filled with the potion she was administering to Cailan each day. There was certainly enough now to fulfil her purpose. Returning the empty vial to its holder she locked the cabinet and crossed the room to the locked door. Quickly producing the key from the silver chain at her neck she slipped into the room and smiled at the mage. "It is time my dear."

Anora watched as the magical symbols shimmered around her and were then traced over her stomach. She gave a sharp intake of breath at the icy feel as the magic melted into her, but steeled herself. This was necessary for her survival as Queen and she would do anything to maintain her status. The mage led her to a large comfortable chair and requested she rest, giving her a liquid which she used to adorn her throat and wrists. "And you are sure the ritual will work this time Merrin?" The failed attempt with Cailan had enraged her.

The young mage flushed. "Yes your Majesty. If … if the Prince is fertile."

"And this potion will ensure he will comply." She glanced to her wrists.

"Yes your Majesty. You will be his heart's desire."

"Good, come sit with me a moment." The Queen handed the mage a goblet like her own and took a small sip, watching as the mage drank greedily. If it failed with Alistair there would be no point in relaying on another ritual, there were no more sons of Maric. The mages eyes widened in surprise and with a sigh she slumped onto the chair, Anora nimbly catching the goblet as it fell from her hand. "Excellent. Mages are so disposable." Her man servant came at his mistress's request and disposed of the body.

**xXx**

Anora walked quickly to Alistair's chambers, slipping discretely through the door much to the astonishment of the Prince.

"What are you doing here?" He hissed.

"Cailan will tell me nothing of your argument."

He glared as she pouted. "And you think I will?"

"Come now Alistair, perhaps I can help." She was moving closer until he was pressed up against a chest of drawers.

Whatever scent she was wearing was making his hairs stand on end and he shifted uncomfortably.

Anora slipped her hands beneath the material of his tunic making him shudder and pull away. "There was a time Alistair when you craved my attentions."

"I was a boy and a foolish one." He sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. "Leave me be Anora." He watched in disgust as she sank to her knees before him, her tongue gliding across her lips in a way that used to make him ache with desire. Thankfully he had blushed at the slightest thing so his crush on his brothers betrothed went unnoticed by all but Anora herself. He turned from her. _What is that smell?_ He caught the flicker of movement and turned back his eyes widening as Anora's dress slipped from her shoulders. "Makers breath Anora, what in the Void are you doing?"

"I need a child Alistair. Your brother seems incapable in that department, you will have to do."

"I will not." He gasped in horror, his cheeks flushed in fury and embarrassment. "Now get dressed and get out."

"I know you want me Alistair." She whispered pressing him back onto the bed. "You have always wanted me. I know that is why you stay away from court and avoid looking for a wife."

Alistair shook his head, the scent of her perfume made everything hazy. "No, that is not … I do not …."

Anora pressed against him taking advantage of his confusion, her tongue darting into his mouth.

He groaned; his vision distorted, only to realise it was fiery hair that was spilling over him not blond and golden eyes that were fixed on him rather than blue.

"Grace?" He gave a startled gasp.

Anora raised an eyebrow, Cailan had mentioned his infatuation with the mage of course and she was annoyed that the potion had to make him see her as someone else. She bit back her agitation, the potion did what it had to do to get the desired effect and she would do the same. "Of course silly." She kissed him hungrily; pulling off his tunic, her lips and tongue swirling against his throat and working down his chest, lightly grazing his stomach.

"Grace this does not feel right." He mumbled.

"I want you Alistair." She whispered, undoing his breeches.

"Grace what...what are you doing here?"

Anora sighed impatiently. "I came to be with you Alistair, should I leave?"

"Maker no!" He pulled her beneath him; the smell was driving him crazy, he couldn't think.

Anora shuddered at the sensations pouring through her body. Cailan never touched her like this; as though she was the only woman in the world. Alistair wasn't just touching her, he was worshiping her. Her neck arched back as he began to thrust, her cries of pleasure lost in the passion of his hungry kisses. She cried out in surprise at the strength of her orgasm as she felt his climax gifting her with his precious seed. He slumped over, sinking into a deep sleep. Anora lay still allowing her breathing to return to normal, her heartbeat to calm. She turned on her side and gently ran her fingers through his hair. "Thank you Alistair. You have been most helpful. Perhaps if you were more amenable we could have ruled together, such a waste."

**xXx**

Anora made sure she was presentable and entered her husband's study, smiling at her father and kissing him lightly on the cheek. "I believe Alistair is becoming something of a problem to you husband."

Cailan nodded grimly. "He never was one for politics."

"Might I make a suggestion? The application of a slow acting poison and a trip to Redcliffe might kill two birds with one stone so to speak. With Eamon and Alistair both dead at Redcliffe it would not be too difficult to portray this as Teagan grabbing for power. He could then be executed and any potential civil war avoided."

Cailan looked at her in surprise, it was one thing to assassinate the Arl, but quite another to murder his own brother. "That is perhaps a little harsh Anora."

"Is it? Do you think Alistair will ever accept what was done with Eamon? Do you think he will ever understand why it had to be done? He is an idealist, a romantic fool and he does not have the spine to do what must be done. Cailan he will weaken you and by extension Ferelden. Can you afford that to happen?"

"Anora, that is too far!" Loghain spluttered.

Anora's glare to her father silenced him. She tolerated him only because his presence reflected well on her. She softened her gaze knowing well how to play her father. She knelt beside him, resting her hands on his. "Father if we are truly facing a Blight them we must be united for our people. Those who would fracture us must be disposed of for the good of Ferelden. I know you understand that."

"But poisoning Alistair! Anora surely…"

"Trust me father; better that he meet his end as the victim of a cruel plot to steal the throne, than by a traitor's death. Or would you have him take Cailan's place?"

Loghain looked to her in alarm. "You overstep yourself Anora." He growled.

Anora bowed her head. "Forgive me father. I did not mean to accuse you. I know how much you care for Alistair, but he will not let this lie."

Rubbing his forehead Loghain let out a deep sigh. "It could work." He muttered, disgusted with himself. "However there is the complication of the Wardens."

"Come now Loghain the Urn is a fairy tale. I would wager the Wardens will just say they looked for it while using the time to gather support. Duncan is no fool." Cailan added grudgingly.

"I would do it as soon as possible my husband." Anora had no intention of her husband finding out that the child she would carry was in fact his brothers.

Loghain listened to the commands of his King with sadness. He was close to Alistair; had loved the boy from the moment his mother had brought him to Maric and was proud of the young man he had become, but Alistair was a potential threat they could not afford and he would not betray Cailan.

**xXx**

With a heavy heart Loghain entered Alistair's chambers the following morning to find the Prince still in a deep sleep, naked and stretched out on the bed. Loghain raised an eyebrow, threw his breeches at him and yelled at him to wake up.

Alistair blinked groggily and sat up, staring at Loghain in confusion. "Where is Grace?" He paled slightly glancing in alarm to Loghain at the words that left his lips before he could stop himself.

"With the Wardens I would imagine. You have been dreaming Alistair, now get dressed we need to talk."

Alistair was grateful Loghain seemed to brush off his words. He rubbed the back of his neck, his movements were sluggish and even the cold water splashed onto his face barely revived him. "What is it Loghain?"

"I can stand by and watch your brother on this road of self-destruction no longer." He had Alistair's full attention. "He intends to go ahead with his plan to kill the rest of the Arl's family. Alistair, I beg you go to Teagan and warn him."

"Why is he doing this?" Alistair balled his fists in frustration.

"His motivations are not always clear, even to me. Please Alistair. I will do what I can to stop this madness." Alistair nodded, already packing. "Alistair." Loghain gripped the young man's shoulder, turning him to face him. "Speak with your brother before you leave, and may the Maker watch over you."

Alistair smiled and grasped the Teyrn's hand. "May He watch over us all."

**xXx**

As Alistair rode out of Denerim; his guards with him, he shifted uncomfortably feeling a little nauseous. Assuming it was his concern for Teagan and his distaste at the actions of his brother he forced himself to ignore it. He rode on, but was grateful at midday when they stopped to rest. He drank some water; but refused food, his stomach churning. Closing his eyes he thought back to the disturbing memory of Anora coming into his room. He remembered her lips on his; her fingers on his skin, bile rose in his throat, as the image of Grace vanished, replaced with those blue eyes staring up at him. He moved from his men, vomiting when he was at a safe distance. He clenched his fists in rage. "Bitch." He hissed. He vomited a second time feeling exhausted. He pressed his head in his hands; tears of anguish forced back as he tried to decided how to deal with Anora.

By the time he had reached Redcliffe, Alistair's whole body ached and he was experiencing a constant state of nausea. He spoke to Teagan in private; telling him his concerns, but Teagan was more concerned for his friend.

"Alistair you are unwell. Please you must rest; we will discuss this further tomorrow."

"Be on your guard Teagan, please." Alistair allowed himself to be led to a bed chamber, every movement becoming painful. He sank into the soft sheets; his body beginning to burn, his head pounding, his eyes painfully sensitive to light. Alistair moaned softly as he slipped into sleep, ice blue eyes taunting him.


	20. Dancing To A Demon's Tune

The companions had reached the ferry that would take them to the Circle as night fell and were relieved that the inn; curiously named The Spoiled Princess, still had rooms, though it would be cramped. Three rooms were left which meant Duncan; Aedan and Shadow would share one room, Anders and Zevran were sharing another, while Grace, Leliana and Hunter had the last. Having a meal made for them had also been a welcome indulgence and they were warm with full stomachs. Unfortunately relaxation did not accompany the meal.

"I've told you before Duncan I am not going to the Circle."

"I understand your reservations Grace."

"No! No you don't." She raged pushing back from the table and getting to her feet. "I'm not going in that place and nothing you say will make me change my mind!" She stormed out of the inn aware of the scene she had created and stomped down to the lake, sitting down and dipping her fingers in the cold water. She heard soft foot falls headed in her direction.

Leliana sat next to her so close they were almost touching, but silent. She glanced at her friend, but the silence endured.

"I'm not going." Grace muttered at last.

"I did not say you were." Leliana murmured back, her eyes fixed on the Circle Tower.

"I can't go in there."

"I would imagine it would be a daunting prospect for any apostate."

"It's not that Lel; well it is, but it's not just that." Again the silence spanned between then and Grace gave an exasperated sigh. "How do you do this?" She muttered crossly, very aware the bard was smiling.

"Do what my friend?"

"Make me want to spill my guts to you!"

"Years of practice."

Grace shook her head crossly. "Fine. When I was in the Fade the Demon showed me things, things to do with the Circle. I'm afraid if I go in there I'll lose myself."

"You are strong Grace, but I will make a deal with you. If you become an abomination I will cut you down myself."

Grace glanced at her companion and wasn't sure whether to be relieved, or terrified that she was serious.

**xXx**

Anders gave a deep sigh and sat on the edge of the bed unbuckling his boots. The Circle could be seen from the window and he had already closed the curtains, pulling them together so fiercely he almost ripped them from the rail. He could feel the tinge of magic that rippled out from the circle; he could almost taste it in the air. He grabbed his boot and threw it hard against the wall, followed by its pair.

Zevran glanced up from the chair where he had quietly seated himself when they had entered the room. "You seem troubled."

Anders turned startled forgetting for a moment Zevran was in the room with him. "Sorry, I … I …" He put his head in his hands. "I hate it here."

"I take it you were once a guest at Kinloch Hold."

Anders felt tears burn his eyes; he clenched fists tasting bile, jumping as Zevran's hand rested on his shoulder. He pulled away and moved to the window pulling aside the curtain slightly so Zevran could see the tower in the lake. "There are no guests in that place." He snarled. "Only prisoners and jailers. You obey everything demanded of you." He glanced to Zevran, rage darkening his eyes. "And I mean everything or they hurt you in ways you can't imagine." He let the curtain fall. "Duncan expects me to go in there, damn him." Anders slumped back on to the bed. "He wants me to go back into the place that haunts me, that fills my sleep with nightmares. If Cullen was here maybe …" He fell silent suddenly embarrassed he had said so much. "Ignore me Zevran I drank a little too much with my meal."

Zevran settled next to him taking a dagger from its sheath wondering who Cullen was. "This dagger has been the instrument of death for many men. Should a Templar take an interest in keeping you within those walls, this dagger and I shall dissuade him from such an unwise course of action."

Anders glanced at him startled. "Why would you do that?"

Zevran glanced to the window. "I too know what it is to be tortured. To be imprisoned in a life you did not choose. Besides which I owe you my life."

Anders shifted slightly turning to face Zevran. "You swear you will get me out of there alive?"

Zevran smiled. "You have my oath."

**xXx**

Lying in bed Grace tossed and turned until finally Leliana pushed her. It was gentle, but still sent her tumbling out of the bed, barely missing Hunter who gave a sleepy huff.

"Hey!"

"Talk to me."

Grace turned away from Leliana as she sat back on the bed and was surprised to feel hands start to knead the tight muscles in her shoulders. She sighed as she felt her rigid muscles begin to respond to the bard's skilful hands. "Now I know why Aedan has such a smile on his face these days." She teased.

Leliana laughed. "Believe me my friend; his smile is caused by something else entirely."

Grace chuckled and relaxed further as Leliana encouraged her to lie down, her hands working down her back making the young mage sigh again.

"So tense." She muttered.

"Life's been a bit crazy lately."

"Indeed. What is it you fear will happen in the Circle?"

Grace felt the lump form in her throat and shivered. "The demon at Redcliffe was very persuasive. She kept changing the Fade, digging further into my memories. She offered to bring Cullen back. She offered to bring my mother back. She...she looked like my mother in the end."

Leliana bit her lip in sorrow at the shudders from her friend and realised she was crying.

"I had to kill her Lel, it was the only way. The bitch kept her face until the end. I can't go through that again." She clutched the pillow, burying her face as she wept.

Leliana wrapped her arms around Grace and held her close. "I am so sorry my friend. Truly." Leliana lay awake long after Grace had fallen asleep, never having found out why the young woman would think she would have to face another demon in the circle. Leliana sighed. She adored Grace and despite all of her efforts she was falling in love with Aedan. Added to that she found herself as dedicated to the task of stopping the Blight as the Wardens. Her mind warred with her duty to Marjolaine. _Well done Leliana, you know better than to get close to people. _At her side Grace gave a moan of distress, her fists clenching and Leliana held her closer, soothing her hair and whispering a tale of love until the sun began its ascent.

**xXx**

Duncan was ready for yet another argument with Grace as they finished breakfast and left the inn. Aedan had questioned his Commanders instance that Grace should go at all. Duncan had shaken his head; he had no idea why, but he knew he needed her with him.

"Yeh sure, let's go over to the building filled with Templar's!" Grace snarled.

Duncan flinched, but held his ground. "I need you with me." It wasn't a command, but it may as well have been.

Grace glanced at Anders startled as he headed towards the ferry and caught his arm. "Where are you going?"

He swallowed, trying to stop himself from trembling. "We won't be in there long."

"Anders?"

"Grace it's okay." He gently squeezed her hand. "Warden's remember."

Grace turned to Duncan barely able to contain her fury. "Are you kidding me, you're expecting Anders to go in there!"

"Grace the Templars cannot harm either of you. Trust me."

Anders clasped Grace's hand; gently tugging her as he followed Zevran, Grace scowled at Duncan, shivering despite the warmth of the sun. Shadow and Hunters howls as they were left at the jetty following them across the lake.

**xXx**

Knight Commander Greagior looked over the party in surprise. It had been some time since they had received a visit from the Wardens. He glared openly at Anders, but held his tongue. The young man barely looked at him, a sadness wrapped around him like a cloak.

Grace glanced about warily. No Templar's screaming in pain, no air of panic and the doors were open. She visibly relaxed and then realised the Knight Commander was watching her. She inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement.

"Might I ask where you did your training?"

Grace felt the group tense, but smiled and was astonished at the ease with which the lies slipped from her tongue. "The Circle in Kirkwall."

"And how is First Enchanter Mawan?"

Grace smiled. _What the hell, let's see how this plays out_. "I have no idea, but First Enchanter Orsino was well."

The Knight Commander nodded. "And Meredith?"

"I would not presume to comment on the Knight Commander."

"I see Orsino is at least instilling some manners into you. Why are you with the Wardens?"

"I was recruited two years ago."

Clearly bored now Greagior turned his attention to Duncan, missing the astonished look Anders was throwing at his friend. "I assume you remember the way, I have other duties to attend to."

Grace followed Duncan, her eyes down cast the perfect picture of humility. It was only when they had reached the library that she gave a sigh of relief.

"What in the Void was that?" Anders murmured.

Grace gave him a cheeky grin. "Come on Anders, any apostate foolish enough to walk into a Circle has to have a cover story."

He shook his head smiling; she never ceased to amaze him.

**xXx**

The First Enchanter was in his office having a very heated debate with one of his senior enchanters. Grace peered around Duncan and froze as Uldred glared at them. He stormed out, brushing passed her. He stopped dead, his eyes locking on her widening in surprise. Grace felt a surge of panic; unable to look away from him and was aware that Anders had moved closer to her, his stance protective.

"Come in Duncan." Irving's voice broke the spell and Uldred hurried off.

Anders gripped Grace's arm and pulled her into the office.

Irving muttered about the politics of the circle and how few mages he could spare. With the promise of only ten mages Duncan felt deflated, but could waste no further time.

Grace was glad to be leaving until a scream echoed down the corridor. The door burst open and abominations surged out of the room, their hideous shrieking deafening. Aedan was already calling on the Templar's as Anders froze the creatures and Grace shattered them with rocks. Duncan cut down the ones that got passed, Leliana at his side.

Uldred burst from the room; his eyes locking with Grace's and sent an energy blast, which threw them half way down the corridor. Grace felt her head slam against the stone and her vision became hazy. Uldred's face was inches from her own. "Welcome home." The demon he now was hissed as she lost consciousness.

**xXx**

_Grace stared astonished at the scene playing out before her. Anders and Alistair were stretched out on the grass of a meadow. The sun was reflecting off the water of the lake bursting into a rainbow prism of light. She watched as Anders propped himself up on one arm and tenderly caressed the jaw of the man beside him. Her mouth fell open as Alistair reached up and claimed the mages lips in a deeply passionate kiss. Heart pounding she couldn't tear her eyes away as the two men continued to kiss, smiling lovingly at each other. She licked her lower lip wanting to join them, but it wasn't right. She glanced about; feeling the ripples of the Fade and with a last look at the two men she left, the Fade sweeping around her._

**xXx**

Grace opened her eyes to find herself on the stone floor in a small room. Her back felt ripped and her mouth was parched. Her whole body felt off balance. Trying to focus her eyes she realised she was not alone.

"Welcome back."

She recognised the snake like tones of Uldred and groaned.

"I'm sure you will enjoy my gift to you."

It took a few moments for his comment to sink in and she sat up, wincing at the tightness of her back and the pain as she tried to move her shoulders. "What gift?"

"Lyrium is so very useful. So flexible if one is willing to approach things from different perspectives."

"Uldred unless you want to continue this conversation with my fist I suggest you explain yourself."

He laughed a high whiny laugh that set her teeth on edge. "Come, you shall see for yourself."

She allowed him to help her stand and he positioned her with her back to the large mirror. Twisting her head she gave an astonished gasp, her robe had been cut open and her dragon tattoo was gleaming with lyrium.

"Such power in one so young," His fingers brushed against her curls, twisting the thick locks in his fingers. "We mages are the larval form of something much greater. With my help you will transcend the limits the Templar's put upon us." He traced the lines of lyrium he had carved into her back, smiling as she shuddered in pain. "So brave my young one."

"Are you completely insane?"

He fluttered his hand across the lyrium and she whimpered as her energy was drained. "You are mine apostate, you serve me." His voice was now harsh and commanding. He dragged her from the room towards the Harrowing Chamber and dumped her next to the First Enchanter. "It is done."

Grace stared in horror as Irving nodded and cupped her chin in his smooth hand. "Better an apostate than one within the Circle." He muttered.

Grace felt the magic of the two mages build around her. A deep rage swelled through her body. She claimed the lyrium as her own and turned on them. She was barely aware that the door had opened and her companions had entered. Uldred's body had already twisted into the demon he was and she tore into him, the lyrium taking her over the edge into magic she had never even thought of. She tore him apart from the inside out and grimaced as his body exploded. She turned on Irving then, ignoring Duncan who was commanding her to stop. She cried out as her body was slammed into the ground, Anders and Aedan pinning her to the floor. She glared at Irving's smile of triumph.

**xXx**

Grace was taken to a small cell, Anders watching her from the other side of the bars fitted into the door. "Anders get me out of here!"

"You attacked the First Enchanter Grace. Did you really think you would get away with that?" He was staring at her sadly.

"You can't be serious Anders, that maniac Uldred carved lyrium into me and Irving sanctioned it."

"I'm sorry Grace, sorry that you couldn't see it for the gift it is." He pulled back from the bars shaking his head.

Grace stared at him in horror. _Anders you can't be in on this._ "Anders please; you can't leave me here, you can't do this to me."

"It's for your own good Grace."

"Anders please!" She ran to the door, her fingers curling around the bars. _This can't be happening; Anders would never do this to me._ "Anders!"

"I don't have a choice Grace. I'm sorry. It was the only way they would let me go."

Grace stared at him stunned, her voice trembling. "Anders please, I'm begging you don't leave me." She felt her world crumble around her as his footsteps echoed down the corridor.


	21. Trials In The Tower

Grace sat in the dark cell for what seemed like an eternity. Her mind constantly likened it to the well she had felt trapped in having undergone the rite of tranquillity and it was all she could do to stop the screams from leaving her lips. She had no intention of giving the Templar's that satisfaction. Sitting on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest; she willed herself to take slow, deep, calming breaths.

"You are stronger than this." Flemeth moved out of the shadows of the cell making Grace jump in panic.

_What the hell!_ "But I came out of the Fade." Her voice was uncertain as she scanned the events of the past few hours.

"Did you? Well there's nothing more to be said then." The Witch dissolved into the shadows leaving Grace alone.

_Damn it I hate demons_. However; a relieved smile teased her lips as she realised she had not been mutilated with lyrium, she was not truly in a cell in the Circle and Anders had not left her. _Okay Grace, get yourself out of this one_. She concentrated on trying to feel the Fade, feeling its ripples move over her skin like water. _Anders where are you?_ She turned sharply as the sound of crying reached her ears and then she heard Leliana's voice.

**xXx**

_The cell shimmered around her and she found herself in a small house. Leliana was kneeling on the floor sobbing._

"_What game are you playing my Leliana? I know you better than you know yourself; you are not one to fall in love." Marjolaine walked forward leaning to caress her cheek, but Leliana pulled back._

"_I did love him." The distraught woman sobbed._

"_Come now Leliana, if you loved him you would never have brought him here. Come we will dispose of him and then we can return to Orlais. Don't you want that?" Her purring voice held a subtle commanding tone._

"_Orlais means nothing without him." She whispered._

"_Come my dear, surely the young Cousland cannot have created that much of an impression. He was delightful I am sure, but easily replaced." _

_Grace felt her hands clench; nausea filling her throat at the realisation that Leliana was holding Aedan in her arms, his blood pooling on the floor._

"_It's over Marjolaine. I cannot do this anymore." Leliana turned at the sound of a gasp; her eyes locking with Grace, her own gasp of horror muffled by her hand clasped over her mouth._

"_Kill her Leliana, it is the only way."_

"_No!" She wailed. "Grace is my friend." She turned back to Marjolaine; standing, her blades drawn._

"_You think to kill me. We are one and the same Leliana. Do you think she will be your friend now she knows what you truly are?" _

_Grace walked to Leliana's side her face determined. "Leliana this is a demon; we kill it, we leave. Then you and I need to have a talk." _

_The bard glanced at her; eyes wet with grief, before she sank her blade into Marjolaine's throat._

**xXx**

_Anders lay on the ground; gasping for breath, his hand pressed to the jagged wound on his chest, blood oozing between his fingers. _

_Cullen stood above him, sword raised to Anders throat. "As if I could ever love a mage." He hissed. _

_Anders sobbed bitterly, trying to back away from the Templar._

_Leliana gripped Grace's wrist. "It is a demon we must …" _

_Grace was already moving, furious that the demon would twist Anders memories of Cullen. She slammed into the demon driving it to the ground. "Change!" She roared! The demon laughed as Cullen. "Change demon before I make you." _

_Leliana pulled Anders to his feet, their eyes locked on the demon as its form twisted, Cullen's features distorting into the demon it was. _

_Grace moved back, the demon suddenly realising it couldn't move. Grace clenched her fist, golden flame rippling up her arm. She incinerated the demon, ignoring its shrieks and snarls of rage. Slowly she turned to Anders, her own tears mirrored in those that were sliding down his cheeks. _

"_Thank you." He whispered as the Fade shifted around them._

**xXx**

_Zevran stared at the blade in his hand; still wet with blood, her blood. Her eyes were locked with his; silently pleading, even in death. The dagger fell from his hand. Hadn't he already done this? He looked up as a hand rested on his shoulder, the hand of the mage who had allowed him to live. He struggled to remember the name; Anders, yes that was it. He sank into the hazel depths and saw an understanding that he wanted to shrink from, instead he found himself leaning into the mage._

"_You belong to the Crows." Taliesen hissed._

_Leliana drove her dagger through the demon silencing it. "Damn these demons!" She muttered._

**xXx**

_Aedan ran through the corridors of his home, panic constricting his heart. Screams of the dying assaulted his ears and he slipped on a pool of blood hitting the floor and slamming into a body. He pulled back; only to pull the man, his father into his arms. Bryce Cousland's eyes were unseeing; he was long gone from this world. Aedan sobbed; pulling his father close to him, uncaring of the blood that now covered him. He heard another scream and laying his father gently down ran towards his brother's room, desperate to save at least one person. _

_He wrenched open the door to find his nephew Oren's lifeless body cast on the floor. He tore the men from Oriana, killing them with his bare hands. He held the injured woman in his arms, begging her to stay. She gave a shuddering breath; her hand gripped around his wrist falling slack, her eyes closing. He wept into her soft brown hair. The woman he had loved, but who had loved his brother. _

_Leliana stared at Aedan her heart breaking. _

_Grace glanced towards the main bedroom as a high pitch scream was suddenly cut off. _

_Aedan glanced up, startled by the presence of his companions. He laid Oriana back on the bed, closing the eyes of his nephew and took Leliana's offered hand. He walked slowly towards his parent's bedroom. Shaking he reached for the handle and swung open the door. Howe was moving back from the bed; pulling up his breeches, sneering down at the dead woman. Aedan gave an inhuman roar of pain, flying at his enemy. Howe transformed into the demon, causing Aedan to stumble back in shock. _

_Leliana moved to him placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "All we need to do is kill it and you are free of this place." Aedan's eyes narrowed and he attacked the demon with all the rage and hatred in his heart, driving the blade into its twisted flesh long after it was dead._

_The demon vanquished Aedan turned to them; his face ashen, collapsing to his knees, clutching Leliana as she wrapped her arms around him. _

**xXx**

_Duncan lay on the grass, his hand entwined with the young woman at his side. Her golden eyes holding him transfixed, her dark hair sweeping down her body in waves. She sighed contentedly; resting her head on his chest, her fingers running over the hard muscles, teasing the dark hair. He gave a growl and pulled her to him, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss. _

_Grace and the others weren't sure where to look as he made his intentions more than clear moments later as he moved so her body was flush beneath him._

"_I am yours my Warden." _

_He gave a harsh laugh, suddenly moving from her. "You are no-one's Flemeth, least of all mine." _

_Grace gave a sharp intake of breath and Duncan turned to her startled. _

_The young Flemeth flashed a deadly smile, moving to Duncan once more. "We had such good times my love." _

_Grace suddenly had the flashing thought that Morrigan was Duncan's daughter and paled._

"_You're not real." He muttered pushing her back._

"_I can give you everything she could not, the child that should have been yours. I would love you."_

"_I think we've had quite enough mind games for one day." Grace stated, numb and just wanting this to be over. _

_The demon twisted form, but was swiftly cut down. The Fade shifted one final time._

**xXx**

"_It's time for you all to go back now," The demon was stating. "I'll make it much better this time."_

"_That wouldn't be hard." Grace muttered angrily. _

_The demon gazed at her curiously, a smile curving at an odd angle on its face. _

_Glaring she sent a blot of lighting through the core of the demon, flickers of her magic tearing into it as it strived to change form. Anders froze it as Duncan, Zevran, Aedan and Leliana took out their frustration on its twisted form. _

_With a roar of rage Duncan drove his blade through its neck, the severed head landing at his feet. He glanced up startled as the Fade peeled back and they were returned to consciousness. _

The silence seemed to stretched as they glanced at each other exhausted. "Let's finish this." Duncan's deep voice wavered slightly; unnerved by the sympathetic glance Grace had given him.

**xXx**

This time the Harrowing Chamber was real, but Uldred was giving Grace that same look that she had seen while in the Fade at Redcliffe.

"Join me." He said joyfully holding out his hand. "Together we would be unstoppable."

"Sure, let's just go crazy and go on a demon rampage. Thanks, but no thanks."

"Join me and I will give you the truth."

Grace lowered her arm; the flame still flicking in her hand, staring at him uncertainly. "What truth?"

"Grace." Anders voice was urging caution.

"What truth Uldred?"

"The truth of your origins." He laughed then; the type of evil villain laugh she had used to think so corny in films, now sounded menacing and terrifying.

"What would you know of my origins?" She glared fiercely, her heart pounding.

"More than you child. You think Flemeth took you from your home, but she sent you there."

Grace felt herself sway, shock making her ice cold. "What?"

"Haven't you ever wondered how you can sense the taint in the Wardens, but not the Darkspawn? How you can do the magic you do?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, tears burning her. She was aware of the shocked looks the others were giving her, but she couldn't focus. Had her parents and sister been a lie? "What are you talking about Uldred?"

"They had to die; don't you see, so you would be ready to come back."

Grace's eyes widened, grief slammed into her so hard she felt herself shatter. She lost all sense of who she was and what she was doing. Her body blazed with a white light so intense her companions had to shield their eyes. The abomination stared wide eyed at his death and cowered; this had not been part of the plan. As the energy dissipated Grace slumped to the floor, grateful as she slipped into darkness.


	22. Dancing, Disguise and Decisions

Grace returned to consciousness relatively quickly, though refused to speak of what Uldred had said. The companions left the Circle Tower with the gratitude of First Enchanter Irving and Knight Commander Greagior. They had both agreed; that potentially one of the biggest disasters the Circle had ever faced, had been averted. However; to Duncan's annoyance this did not seem to make them any more willing to part with mages, or for that matter Templars.

Shadow and Hunter jumped on their respective humans as soon as the ferry touched the shore. Grace clung to Hunter, exhausted and tired above all else of the grief that was weighing her down. They had retained their rooms at the inn and Grace headed back to bed, not even bothering to remove her clothes.

Leliana accompanied her to their room, fearful of what Grace would do now they were out of the Fade. "What happens now?" Leliana's soft voice only just penetrated the sleepy haze that was surrounding Grace.

With a sigh the mage sat up and regarded the bard. "Lel, why were you hired? You could have killed him a dozen times over by now."

"My assignment was to bring him to Denerim, he was to be handed over to Arl Howe. I did not know what had happened." Her hands covered her face. "In the Fade, it was so awful."

Grace found herself moving down the bed and wrapping her arms around her friend, hugging her close. "I know you love him, so the way I see it you have two options. Tell Aedan, or kill Marjolaine."

Leliana stared at her in astonishment. "I cannot tell him."

Grace smiled at her whisper of horror. "Didn't think you could, so that leaves killing Marjolaine. I assume she's the only one who knows about you?"

Leliana nodded thoughtfully.

"We will end up in Denerim at some point. We just take a detour; tell the others we are going shopping or something suitably girly so they won't want to join us, deal with the problem and get on with our lives."

"You would do that?"

"There's been so much pain Lel; I just want to preserve any good there is, but I swear if you hurt him I will kill you."

**xXx**

Grace at last sank into a deep sleep.

_She found herself standing on a cliff staring out over a large expanse of water. She smiled as arms wrapped around her waist and Alistair gently kissed her throat._

"_I miss you." He murmured, catching her earlobe between his teeth, giving a playful tug._

"_I miss you too."_

"_Time is running out Grace." _

_She turned to face him, concerned by the sadness in his voice. "Time for what?"_

"_Time for us."_

"_What are you talking about Alistair?" _

_He cupped her cheek tenderly. "I love you."_

Grace woke up with a start, her heart pounding. Her stomach growled and rubbing her neck to ease its ache she made her way downstairs.

**xXx**

To Duncan's relief by nightfall Danforth, Gavarth and Maverin had joined them. Danforth was in a foul mood, which was unusual for him. He explained some little weasel had tried to kill them when they had gone looking for Brother Genitivi. "But we know where he was headed. Some place called Haven, never heard of it myself."

"Good work." Duncan clasped his friends shoulder, having to reach up.

"Duncan this is a fool's errand." Danforth muttered.

"I know you are hardly religious my friend, but we need the Arl's men."

"It's a bloody annoyance, is what it is."

Grace raised her head sleepily and regarded Danforth curiously. She had never seen the man so agitated. He sat down with a loud thump and drank some ale in the most aggressive manner she had ever seen. Getting up she walked over to him, cupping his chin and turning the startled man to face her. "What's wrong my friend?"

Gavarth cleared his throat and Maverin gazed at the floor.

"What's happened?" Duncan demanded.

"We went to the Denerim Chantry to get the whereabouts of Brother Genitivi." Danforth started, and then stopped looking at his feet.

"You see it's like this Kitten." Gavarth took over from his friend, clearly uncomfortable with whatever he had to say. "There are wanted posters up in the city, posters of you."

Grace didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "What am I wanted for?"

"Crimes against the Chantry."

She did laugh then, shaking her head and rubbing her temples. "I need some air." She muttered, leaving the inn and walking to the water's edge. The fact that the Chantry was eager to have her dead was no surprise, so her thoughts did not dwell long on that piece of information. She instead turned her attention to Uldred's words._ If I am really from Ferelden, who am I? What happened to my family here? Why would Flemeth send me to a different world?_

**xXx**

Duncan quickly explained about Travis and the failed assassination attempt. Anders moved in front of Zevran as Danforth got to his feet, clearly intent on taking his anger out on the elf.

Grace turned startled as her companions poured out of the inn; Anders pushing Zevran behind him, with Danforth and Gavarth following, clearly in a fury. "Enough." She yelled, bringing the men up sharply.

"He tried to kill you." Danforth spluttered.

"I know. I was there."

"Come on Kitten; you can't possibly trust him."

"Actually I do. Besides which Duncan has already given his permission, Zevran stays."

Danforth actually growled and glared at his Commander. "I'll be watching him." He stated at last.

"No problem, I'm watching him as well." Grace turned and glared at Zevran killing the smart comment before it left his lips. She watched as they returned to the inn leaving Anders and Zevran standing beside her. With a sigh she returned to the water's edge sitting down and hugging her knees.

"You have my gratitude." Zevran's delicious accent made her smile into her arms as he settled next to her.

"Any time." She murmured.

Anders sat on her opposite side rubbing his neck. For several moments he didn't say anything, just sat gazing out over the water towards the Circle. "When you want to talk about it I'm here."

Grace smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes as his arm wound around her waist, his lips pressing to her forehead. "You too."

**xXx**

They had set out early the following morning, stopping at midday having covered a surprising amount of distance. Grace glanced over to Zevran, watching the assassin with keen interest. He was relaxed, leaning against a fallen log talking to Anders. The elf was quick witted; an incorrigible flirt, but more and more she saw behind his façade to the man underneath, who had a kind heart and was generous of spirit, even if he didn't want to admit it. He was also doing what they had failed to do; he made Anders smile. Hunter and Shadow had taken it upon themselves to watch him, which was met with the approval of Danforth and Gavarth. Grace was convinced this was just an excuse for the mabari to be together and had said as much to them. Both war dogs had looked at her with wide innocent eyes, which hadn't fooled her for a moment. Her heart fluttered as Anders gave the beginnings of a smile and wondered what the assassin had said.

She lay back onto the grass and cupping her hands beneath her head she closed her eyes. Idly she wondered what Alistair was doing, feeling the sharp pain his absence caused her. However, as always these days her mind drifted inevitably to Travis. They had found no trace of him and the lengths he had gone to; to have her killed had chilled her. She was curious as to why the Chantry would involve the Crows and supposed that since coming after her directly had failed them so far, another approach had been adopted. Plans formed rapidly in her mind; faking her own death, changes of appearance magical and otherwise. _I wonder if I can shape change._

The grass rustled and she glanced to her left as Anders flopped down next to her. Smiling, she closed her eyes again, aware that he was propped up on one arm watching her. She felt a tickle on her nose and brushed her hand passed it, only to have it happen again. Squinting; she watched Anders who was now grinning broadly, as he teased her with a long stalk of grass. "Maker save me from small boys." She muttered pushing him gently. He snuggled close to her, flicking her ear with the stalk. "Go and tease the assassin." She said chuckling.

"Nope. You're more fun."

It seemed so odd that they should have this moment of happiness and she smiled warmly. "Can you shape change Anders?"

He looked at her oddly. "The Chantry has forbidden that type of magic. It would make it too easy to escape."

Grace propped herself up on her elbows looking at him seriously. "But you've been out of the circle for three years now."

He shrugged. "I wouldn't know where to start. Why?"

Laying back down Grace stared at the sky; watching as the clouds drifted, constantly transforming to different shapes. "With the Chantry after me it might prove useful."

Anders cupped her cheek turning her to face him. "I won't ever let them take you."

"I don't think its capture they are interested in."

**xXx**

Zevran watched the mages curiously. A wicked grin lit his face; as he considered the many ways he would like to distract either mage from unhappy thoughts, or to relieve tension. Smiling broadly he decided that the company needed a little light relief. He sauntered over to Leliana who was tuning the lute Aedan had given her as a gift. "What say you to a night of light entertainment?"

The bard raised her eyebrow questioningly. "What did you have in mind Zevran?"

"Our experiences in the Circle of Magi has us all a little off balance. I propose a night of drinking, dancing and song."

Leliana's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Perfect!"

**xXx**

As darkness fell Grace had found herself drinking yet another cup of wine and was aware that she wasn't just tipsy; she was drunk, very drunk. Aedan and Gavarth had managed to acquire a large amount of alcohol, Anders and Grace had set protection glyphs around the camp and Leliana had encouraged their dancing by stating she wanted to try out her new instrument. Of course Grace was the only other woman and found herself in demand; twirled from the arms of Aedan, to Zevran to Anders watched by their clapping, delighted audience.

Grace giggled as Aedan swung her around, her feet lifting from the floor. She felt incredibly safe in his strong arms and clasped her hands around his neck; laughing helplessly as he swung her around, as though she weighed no more than a small child. As her feet touched the ground he span her out and new hands held her tightly.

Zevran pulled her close, his moves sensuous and initially making her blush furiously. "Ah my beautiful apostate." Zevran purred in delight, spinning them at a dizzying rate. "You are truly a delight."

She found herself arching backwards as his body leaned towards her; one leg held at his waist and as he carefully pulled her back up, she was held flush against his body. "I really shouldn't be this comfortable with the person who was trying to kill me a few days ago." She murmured, suddenly thinking he had the most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen.

"Ah my dear Grace; that is all in the past, let us look to the future." He span her effortlessly again pulling her against his body, wriggling his hips and encouraging her to do the same.

"I am not drunk enough for that Zev!" Failing to notice the smile that touched his lips at the shortened version of his name. He pulled her hips tight; moving them slowly together, smiling as she lay her head on his shoulder, her hot breath against his throat. "You won't try to kill me again will you Zev?"

"No my sweet, I will not."

Grace smiled contentedly. "Thanks." She pulled back suddenly self-conscious; giving him a shy smile and sinking into a heap beside Leliana. "Enough." She declared; raising her arms in protest, only to find Anders pulling her to her feet, refusing to take no for an answer. She clung to him as he span them around the camp, Leliana's music creating a wild beat.

Her laughter filled his heart with joy and he clung to it. Grace was a part of his heart; breathing, living and in his arms. He twirled her out from him, then pulled her close. He drank in the flush of her cheeks; the sparkle of her eyes, her lips stained a deep red from the wine. The music had slowed, a soft thrum in the background as he held her against him. One arm hugged her waist, the other hand gently pushing the rebellious strands from her face. Her hands were resting on his shoulders, slowly moving up into his hair as he pulled her tighter.

"Anders." She whispered.

"Ummm?"

"I just like saying your name." She murmured, resting her head against his chest.

"It's not my real name you know."

She glanced at him through her alcohol fuelled haze; thinking that she did know that, but wasn't sure how. "What is it then?"

He grinned. "Not telling."

"Oh." She looked at him pouting and he laughed, making her lips curve into a smile that took his breath away.

"Well maybe for you, one day."

She reached up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. He turned towards her catching her lips as her heels sank back into the grass. The kiss was brief; unnoticed by their companions. They broke apart; both flushed and shaking.

Catching her fingers Anders clasped her hand and led her back to the fire; sitting her next to Leliana, while he walked over and sat next to Zevran, his eyes never far from her.

Grace glanced to Leliana. "I need a makeover."

"Truly?"

"I need to well, not look like me."

Leliana gave a delighted grin. "You've come to the right person." She grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the camp.

Anders watched them go curiously; wanting to follow them, but held back by Zevran.

"Let them surprise us my friend."

**xXx**

Leliana sat Grace on a rock and walked around her rubbing her chin and muttering. Grace was trying hard not to giggle. "Hair first I think, that is your most identifying feature."

"And here I thought it was my eyes."

"There is little I can do about those."

"Oh." She murmured disappointed. "I was hoping for maybe green eyes, like Zev's."

Leliana stared at her curiously. "Could you not simply use magic?"

"I'd probably make them explode." Grace said before dissolving into giggles.

Leliana realised Grace had closed her eyes and had a deep look of concentration on her face. "Grace I would not try this while you inebriated." The mage opened her eyes and Leliana gasped as she sank into eyes the colour of jade.

"Did it work?"

"Yes. Luckily for you!"

Grace grinned happily. "Okay your turn."

"Cut short and a change of colour should throw the Chantry off the scent."

"I'm yours, do as you will."

**xXx**

Finally Leliana finished with her hair and rushed off to get a change of clothes. Grace slipped over to the stream and peered at her reflection. The water was still; lit with moonlight, the perfect mirror. Her hair looked black and was cut close to her head with a longer length sweeping over her brow. It was such a change she stood with her mouth open.

"You hate it." Leliana said miserably as she returned, her arms laden.

Grace turned, her face breaking into a huge smile. "I love it."

Reassured Leliana had her try on a variety of outfits.

_Where does she keep all this stuff! _They settled for a tunic and pants of dragon hide that were close fitting and showed off her curves.

"Perfect. Let's go show you off."

It was Anders that Grace sought when she returned to the camp and wasn't sure what to think when his mouth fell open. When she got a chorus of wolf whistles she felt a little better and wandered over to sit beside Zevran, Anders eyes locked on her.

"Well Zev, is this a good enough disguise to throw off your Crows?"

"This new colouring suits you, very flattering. I believe it is a most suitable disguise. I wonder who was the inspiration for your eyes!" His cheeky grin made her blush. He stretched and stood; sauntering over to Leliana to congratulate her on her work, wondering if the mage would be quite so happy with her transformation when she was sober.

Grace glanced uneasily at Anders. "Well?"

"You look beautiful." He whispered breathlessly.

She smiled and glanced at the fire; turning as she felt fingertips sifting through her hair, caressing her gently.

"Very beautiful."

Grace turned herself leaning back against his chest. Anders wrapped his arms around her allowing himself a brief moment to pretend he was whole.

**xXx**

Grace drifted in a semi sleep, comforted by the gentle rise and fall of Anders chest at her back. She noticed the others were retiring to their tents and was surprised when Anders shifted back and pulled her to her feet. He led her down the small bank to the stream; the moonlight gleaming on the rippling surface, as a breeze rustled passed them. She gave Anders a smile and sat on the rock she had sat on while Leliana had worked her own brand of magic.

He knelt in front of her taking her hands. "I wanted to thank you for being there for me and for forgiving me."

Grace squeezed his hands. "You're my best friend Anders." She gently cupped his jaw, running her thumb across his cheek. "Without you I'd be lost."

Anders cupped her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. "Seeing Cullen in the Fade, he was going to kill me Grace. I know it wasn't real, but I thought it was. That demon twisted him into the kind of Templar we ran from." He gave a shuddering breath. "I miss him so much."

Grace wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his forehead. "I'm so sorry Anders, I'm so very sorry."

Anders wrapped his arms around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder, shuddering as his tears fell. "I'm trying to be strong; Cullen would want that, but sometimes I just can't."

Grace ran her fingers through his hair. "It will take time Anders, grief doesn't just disappear overnight."

He shuddered before looking up. "I … I'm so angry with him Grace. He killed himself. I know he was cursed, that he was in pain, but _he_ drove that dagger into his chest no-one else. How could he do that! How could he? He left me. He left me!" He wept, burying his face into her shoulder again.

Grace swallowed hard and felt tears slip down her cheeks, running her fingers soothingly through his hair and down his back. "He loved you Anders, he must have felt he had no choice."

"If he had waited a few more minutes; just a few more minutes! Damn him!"

They cried together until their throats were sore and they were exhausted. Finally Anders wiped his eyes and pulled Grace to her feet. They walked silently back to camp, hands clasped.

Grace gently squeezed his hand as they reached her tent, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight Anders."

Anders swallowed hard and glanced to the ground before looking up. "Grace I … can I stay with you, just tonight. Please. I … I don't want to be alone I have such awful nightmares when I'm alone."

Grace glanced at him in concern. "Of course."

Anders snuggled into Grace's arms as they settled onto the bedroll, wrapping the blanket around them. He sighed contentedly as her fingers drifted through his hair, falling into a dreamless sleep.

**xXx**

Grace woke the following morning to a warm body snuggled against her. She smiled as Anders blinked at her sleepily. "Did you sleep well?"

He gave her a small smile. "No bad dreams."

She stretched and yawned deeply. Sitting up she realised her head felt very light and reaching up she was startled that her long strands of hair were missing. "What the …!" Biting her lip she glanced to Anders who was wincing slightly and waiting for her reaction and rifled in her pack for the small hand mirror Aedan had given to her. _She had been surprised when he had given it to her and not Leliana. He had stated 'A beautiful woman deserves beautiful things' and had given her his most charming smile. _Her mouth fell open as green eyes stared back at her. She flicked the short black hair rather liking the style, noticing where her hair had been brightest it was now almost violet in colour.

"Still beautiful." Anders murmured.

Grace flushed and smiled. "Even with bed hair?"

Anders chuckled and sat up leaning over and brushing back her hair. "Even with bed hair."

"Well I don't think even Travis would recognise me, which is a definite bonus."

Anders scowled. "If I ever get my hands on that son of a bitch I'm going to give _him_ a change of appearance."

Grace chuckled softly. "My hero. Come on I'm starving."

**xXx**

Grace chewed on a hunk of bread; her thoughts taking her to Uldred's words, she needed answers, she needed Flemeth. Surely the infamous Witch of the Wilds would have returned to her hut by now. Taking a deep breath she approached Duncan. "I'm not going with you." She said gently, his startled look piercing.

Anders moved to her side, gripping her arm. "What do you mean you're not going?"

"I need to go back to the Korcari Wilds. I need to speak to Flemeth." Duncan gave a sharp intake of breath and she looked up, her eyes pleading with him. "I know it's selfish, but you don't need me to go to Haven, you have everyone else and once I've spoken to Flemeth I will meet you at Redcliffe."

"You can't go alone." Anders cried out in alarm.

"I won't be alone; I'll have Hunter with me."

"Just the two of you travelling all the way back to the Wilds. You do remember the Chantry's after you." Anders snarled in frustration.

"They are looking for a red head with golden eyes and I no longer fit that description. I won't do magic unless I really need to I promise."

"You were planning this last night weren't you?" Anders snapped. "That's why the change of appearance, why didn't you tell me?"

Grace lowered her eyes. "I didn't want to upset you." She winced at his glare.

Duncan fixed his eyes on Grace. Uldred's words had thrown him into chaos and Grace was not the only one who needed answers. Flemeth was the key and he knew he would have to let her go. If his suspicions were right things would change dramatically when she returned. He knew Hunter would defend her to the death and he could already hear her saying this was something she had to do alone. He didn't bother to argue, turning instead and searching through his pack. He approached Grace and held out the two daggers.

Grace's breath caught and she took a step back.

"It's a condition of you going Grace; I won't have you unarmed, just in case you can't use magic, for whatever reason. If you won't take them you're coming to Haven."

"Duncan please..."

He forced himself to stay firm. "It's your choice Grace."

Her hands trembled as she took the daggers from him.

"Duncan you can't let the kid go on her own!" Gavarth spluttered.

Duncan folded his arms across his chest. "If you think you can stop her go ahead."

Gavarth marched over to Grace, hands on his hips. "Kitten are you nuts?"

Grace was trying hard to hide her smile. "Maybe a little. Look I have supplies and a map, I will stick to the Highway and if I see Templars or anyone slightly suspicious I will get off the road. I have my magic and I'm armed, not to mention no one is going to mess with Hunter!"

Gavarth turned to Anders. "You get her to see sense!"

Anders was busy working himself up into a state, furious that she was going to leave them. "Why are you doing this?" Anders hissed; pulling her close to him.

"You heard what Uldred said. I need to know Anders. My life before Ostagar ..." She stopped, struggling to explain. "I need to know who I am Anders, who I truly am and Flemeth may be the only one who can tell me."

He wanted to argue, but her face had that determined look and not even the Maker would be able to sway her from whatever course of action she was planning. "Be careful." He whispered, anxiety lacing his words. "And Grace, you better be coming back!"

"Be careful yourself." She whispered. "I'll see you at Redcliffe, I promise." She glanced up her eyes focusing on their assassin. "Keep an eye on him Zev." Her look making it clear she expected the former Crow to protect him.

"It would be my pleasure."

Leliana hugged her. "Be careful my friend, not all dangers are obvious."

Duncan gripped her arm. "Get to Redcliffe alive, that's an order?"

Grace grinned. "Yes Commander." She laughed at Duncan's growl. Grace quickly hugged her remaining companions and shouldered her pack. Hunter whined at Shadow who was standing next to Aedan looking thoroughly miserable. "We'll be back with them soon, I promise." He licked her hand giving a slight wag of his tail.


	23. Lair of The Dragon Lords

The journey to Haven had been without incident, which had come as a surprise to the companions who had become rather used to being attacked. Anders was in a state of constant agitation since Grace had left their party and he wasn't the only one convinced she would find nothing but trouble.

Zevran walked close to the mage, not entirely sure what he could do to put the young man at ease.

"She is not defenceless my friend and speaking from personal experience she can be very intimidating. I am sure she can handle whatever comes her way."

Anders stared at him startled and gave a sad smile. "She has been through so much, I'm more convinced she is near breaking point. I don't mean demonic." He added hurriedly seeing Zevran's concerned look. "Uldred really hit a nerve. I should have gone with her."

Zevran gripped his shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze. "I am glad you are accompanying us my dear Anders." His flirtatious grin made Anders flush and the two men fell into silence, Zevran trying not to grin at the quick glances the mage directed at him.

**xXx**

When they set up camp that night Zevran made sure his tent was next to the mage. Anders was staring off into the distance, apprehension apparent on his face. "My dear Anders, you will age that handsome face of yours with all of this worry."

Anders looked at him startled; his cheeks flushing, but a smile tugging his lips. "I'll worry until she's back with us." He admitted softly.

"May I make a suggestion?"

Anders raised an eyebrow, but nodded.

"A massage can be a wonderful way to relax. I am skilled in the art and would be happy to offer my services."

"It is tempting, my shoulders feel completely knotted."

"Come then my friend."

Anders watched Zevran slip into the tent and hesitated. He found he was nervous and had no idea why. Growling to himself he marched into the tent; flushing to see Zevran lying back comfortably on blankets, his tunic discarded. Anders eyes moved over the taught muscles and wondered curiously if the beautiful tattoos covered all of his body.

"Come Anders do not be shy."

Anders quickly undid his robe, flushing again as he lay on the blanket in his small clothes. The moment Zevran's hands touched his back he felt warmth fill him.

Zevran kneaded his tense muscles until finally Anders began to relax, pausing as his fingers lightly grazed the scar on Anders right side, just below his ribs that his own dagger had caused and remorse washed over him.

Anders looked up wondering why he had stopped. "It's okay Zevran, it doesn't even hurt anymore."

"I am truly sorry my friend."

Anders shivered as Zevran bent down and pressed his lips briefly to the scar, before continuing with his massage. Anders heart was pounding and he buried his flushed face into the blanket, willing his arousal to dissipate.

Zevran was more than aware of the effect he was having on the young man; but he had no intention of doing anything more than massage, at least not at the moment. "Might I ask a question?"

Anders glanced at him curiously and nodded.

"Not that I am ungrateful, but why did you allow me to live?"

"Because Grace wanted you to live."

Zevran stopped, staring at the mage in shock. "I doubt that my friend."

"You didn't see her face when she first saw you; she was excited, she looked happy. Her spells against you were to drain and disarm. If she had wanted you dead you would have been. She only got angry with you after I got hurt."

"But I was trying to kill her."

"I don't pretend to understand Grace; she is a law of her own, but I know she didn't want you to die."

Zevran fell into a thoughtful silence as he continued the massage, until Anders muscles finally gave in and the mage sank into a deep sleep. Zevran covered him with a blanket and curled up next to him; watching the soft breathing of the man he had almost killed, who he now called friend.

**xXx**

Haven itself was a dismal village nestled at the base of a section of the Frostback Mountains. A guard was on duty at the village entrance and he was less than helpful and downright rude. Leliana was immediately on edge, her senses screaming at her that something was very wrong. Thankfully everyone else was feeling the same and they walked on cautiously, hands resting on the hilts of weapons. A small boy glared at them; demanding that they leave, that they did not belong. "Has brother Genitivi passed this way?" Leliana asked gently, hunkering down so she was eye to eye with the young boy.

He flushed, clearly taken by the pretty bard. "Maybe."

"Could you tell me where he is?"

"You should go to the Chantry and speak to Father Eirik."

"A male priest." Leliana muttered startled.

"Well women can't be priests." The young boy stated indignantly.

Leliana swallowed with difficulty realising the child was playing with the bone of a finger. She stood as the boy ran off. "Something is very wrong with this place."

**xXx**

Reaching the top of the hill they found themselves outside of the village Chantry, a service was clearly in progress. They slipped in quietly, but the villagers turned startled at their entrance.

"Please continue with the service." Duncan stated. "We can speak afterwards."

Father Eirik nodded to the villagers who filed out, apart from four large men in heavy armour. "We do not have many visitors to Haven." The Father stated his voice deep and hinting at menace. "We prefer it that way."

"We are seeking a Brother Genitivi, our information suggested he was headed here."

Zevran nudged Anders, alerting him to the fact that two more armed men had entered the Chantry.

"He is not here, leave."

They heard a muffled voice and the sound of kicking on wood. Aedan raised his eyebrow, his hand resting on his sword. "I think you're lying." His voice edged with steel.

"You should not have come here. Kill them!"

The companions were startled with the strength of their opponents; who despite injury still came at them, blades waving wildly. Anders was concentrating on Father Eirik, but found himself slammed against a wall with an energy blast. Zevran had flitted behind the Father who was also apparently a mage and sank a blade deep into his back, the steel puncturing his lung. The man collapsed, a gurgling sound leaving his lips as he died. Zevran was by Anders side, gently pulling the mage to his feet.

Anders was dazed, but very aware of the warm hand clasped around his. He felt the calloused fingers, the rough palm and felt an ache like a deep wound open up within him. His eyes locked with the assassin, despair, fear and need welling up in him.

Zevran saw the tumult on the young man's face and gently withdrew his hand; allowing the mage to regain his composure, before they followed the others to the hidden room and a very relieved brother Genitivi.

**xXx**

Brother Genitivi remained enthusiastic to continue his journey; despite the injuries he had received and he led them to the Temple, which was surprisingly intact despite its age. Where there had been structural damage the temple had been subjected to the ravages of the weather and snow and icicles adorned the main hall they had entered. The Brother had warned them of the possibility of traps, but the first issue they faced was more villagers, of the armed and armoured kind. They defeated them relatively quickly and despite attempts to talk to the villagers and take a nonviolent route, they carved their way through the temple in blood. The further into the Temple they moved the more traps they uncovered. Shades, fanatics and then came the drakes and young dragons.

"What in the Void are these people doing?" Gavarth hissed sharply decapitating yet another young dragon.

"The Brother must be right; these people really are a dragon cult, though I have no idea why the dragons do not simply turn on them." Leliana mused.

For hours it seemed they walked through tunnels that twisted into the mountain itself. Time and again they were attacked, until they were exhausted and aching. Anders downed yet another lyrium potion to heal their various wounds.

"You need rest my friend." Zevran said gently, worried by how pale Anders looked.

"I know. There can't be much left to kill."

Zevran smiled at his hopeful look. However; as they entered another large cavern they were assaulted by a fanatic mage, who called upon the aid of more drakes. Zevran stayed close to Anders who had become the target of the zealot. He glanced in alarm as Anders slumped wearily against a column his mana almost drained. Zevran gave a frustrated snarl and took the stairs two at a time, a frontal assault never his strategy and yet he wanted the mage to take his focus from Anders. He gave a hiss as pain shot through his body and he was on his knees. Leliana dashed ahead of him, Aedan a step behind as they dealt brutally with the fanatic. Anders finally managed to get to Zevran, carefully healing the wound he had sustained.

"We will rest here for a while." Duncan muttered, as exhausted as everyone else.

**xXx**

Anders sat next to Zevran, his glances starting to irritate the assassin who was struggling with feelings he had buried for so long. "Say whatever is on your mind mage." He snapped, inwardly groaning as Anders flinched.

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Risk yourself for me."

Zevran shook his head, but found himself looking into hazel eyes. "You were exhausted; I did not wish you to get hurt."

"Thank you Zevran."

He felt warmth spread through him as Anders carefully rested a hand on his. "My pleasure." He purred, giving Anders a wink that made him laugh.

**xXx**

Kolgrim had glared at the companions offering them the chance to redeem themselves for their slaughter of man and beast alike. Duncan refused and yet another battle ensued which ended with Danforth driving his blade through the fanatic leaders chest. Kolgrim gave him a look of astonishment before his final breath left him.

Weak with exhaustion they finally made it out into fresh air on the mountain. A huge roar echoed around the mountains and terror filled them all as a huge dragon flew down barring their way.

"Any ideas?" Danforth whispered, his gaze locked on the beast.

"We aren't in any state to fight a dragon." Duncan hissed in frustration.

However luck was on their side. The dragon raised her head as though listening to something and stretching out her impressive wingspan; she rose into the air and landed on a ledge above the path they had to take, tucking her head against her wings and closing her eyes. As quietly as possible; the companions headed in the direction of the large door beyond the ledge of the dragon. When it gave a huff and shifted its position they gave up caution and ran for the door, diving into the building and what they hoped would be safety.

**xXx**

Duncan led the way up the steps to the chamber, where an armoured man they assumed to be the Guardian Kolgrim had spoken of stood.

"Welcome pilgrims."

"We have come for the Urn of Sacred Ashes." Duncan's tone hinted at his increasing impatience.

"The gauntlet will test your worth, and if you are found worthy you may take a pinch of the ashes. However there is something I must ask first." The Guardian turned to each of the companions, his eyes searching. They felt naked beneath his gaze as he sourced the deepest pain from their souls.

"Aedan Cousland, youngest son and warrior. There is suffering in your past, your suffering and the suffering of others. You survived when your family did not. You suspected the Howe, but remained silent. Do you think you failed your family?"

Aedan's face drained of colour, his hands clenching into fists. "Of course I failed them." His voice was harsh, blinking back tears. "I would go back and give my life to save them if I could, or at the very least die with them."

Duncan's hand rested on his shoulder as he glared at the Guardian. "Is this what you do Guardian; dredge up our pain, taunt us with the past?"

"Duncan, Warden Commander of Ferelden. Do you think you failed your daughter?"

All eyes turned to Duncan as the Commander made a strangled noise in his throat. "How could you know?"

"I know all; see all within your soul. Do you believe you failed her?"

Duncan shivered, locked in his memory. "Yes." He whispered finally, his voice broken.

"Not all is as you were led to believe, Duncan of the Grey."

Duncan glanced up startled, but the Guardian was already moving on.

Anders all but cringed as the Guardian turned to him. Zevran moved closer in a protective gesture, but he could not defend his friend from his own memories.

"Anders; mage and Grey Warden, deep down you are afraid of your magic, afraid of who and what you are. Do you believe if you had remained in the Circle; if you had subjected yourself to the Templars demands that Cullen would still be alive?"

Anders stared at him wide eyed before hanging his head; leaning into the warmth of Zevran as the elf pressed against him, each beat of his heart bringing with it a stabbing pain. "Yes." He whispered his shoulders slumped in defeat, tears threatening to fall.

The Guardian looked at him with great compassion before his eyes turned to Zevran who glared back. "Zevran Arainai; Crow, assassin."

Zevran held up his hand. "Do not think to dredge up my past Guardian. I will not be part of this session in emotional torture."

The Guardian nodded, his eyes darkening slightly before he turned to Leliana.

She was grateful when Aedan moved to her, grasping her hand.

"Leliana; you suspected Travis and yet said nothing. Your lack of action led to a companion risking her life and another being badly hurt."

"I had no proof." She interrupted abruptly.

The Guardian's look was piercing. Leliana held his gaze despite the fear rushing through her. She knew without doubt that the Guardian knew what she was and why she was with them. She wanted to say something, but her throat constricted.

"We choose who we are and the actions we take." The Guardian stated sternly. "Remember that." The Guardian turned to Gavarth, his face impassive. "Gavarth; Warden and warrior, do you think you failed your House?"

Gavarth turned pale, his eyes flashing angrily. "What do you want from me Guardian, I did what I did and I live with the consequences. There are many who would say I failed my House. I say I would have failed them not to have taken the action I did."

The Guardian nodded solemnly. "Maverin, Warden and warrior do you think you failed your clan?"

The elf considered the Guardian's words, observing him through emerald green eyes. His voice was steady when he spoke, betraying no emotion. "I serve my clan in what I do. There is no failure in the life that chose me."

"Danforth, Warden and warrior, the path that led you here has been full of pain. Do you think you failed your brother?"

Danforth growled a deep noise that seemed to rise from his chest. "My brother has made his own decisions and he must live by his actions as I must live by mine."

"The way is open. May you find what you seek. One final word of advice pilgrims; time within these walls is not the same as time out with this temple."

**xXx**

Zevran felt the haze of apathy move through his body as they were required to answer a multitude of riddles. He contented himself instead with admiring the captivating mage who had remained at his side. The door to the following chamber finally opened and Zevran yawned, wondering if there was a torture other than boredom that would now be applied.

Anders stared at the man in the corridor beyond clutching his chest his heart was pounding so painfully. He staggered forward his hand reaching out, hesitating inches from him. "Cullen?" He gasped.

Zevran stared, startled by the gasps of shock from the others and focusing on Anders whose whole body was shaking.

"You have to let go of your grief and guilt Anders, it is time."

"Cullen I … are you really here?"

Leliana explained in a hushed voice who Cullen was to the former Crow and Zevran ached for his young mage.

"In this moment only. I know the grief that tears at you, but I am gone and you must be strong for what is to come. Do not cling to the past."

Anders gave a startled cry as Cullen faded, reaching forward to grasp him and finding only air. He sank to his knees sobbing painfully.

Zevran wound his arms around Anders shuddering shoulders; whispering soothingly, until Anders gasping breaths eased and he relaxed into his arms. Zevran was furious with the Guardian, with the trials and with himself for being unable to shield the mage from his pain. "Come Anders." He said gently, brushing a stray strand of hair from the mages eyes. "The sooner this is done, the sooner we can get out of here."

Anders nodded, grateful for the warm hands holding his own, preventing him from giving into despair.

**xXx**

The trials had tested them in ways that had torn at their souls and they felt relief when they finally came upon the ashes. Having to get naked and walking through flames had the majority of the group reluctant. However Duncan was keen to see this over and had stripped and practically charged into the flames, followed in the end by everyone else who had, had enough. The Guardian appeared before them and informed them they were worthy. If he was looking for gratitude or religious fervour he was disappointed and a scowling Duncan retrieved his armour, took a pinch of the ashes and led the companions out into daylight.

The dragon raised its head; watching the group curiously as they headed down the mountain, another watching their progress through her eyes.

**xXx**

Zevran lay in his tent unable to sleep, aware of Anders muffled crying. With a sigh he entered the mages tent and lay down next to him, pulling the overwrought young man into his arms.

Anders clung to him; sobbing painfully, struggling to bring himself under control. He finally looked up at Zevran, tears still streaming down his cheeks. "I'm sorry." He closed his eyes taking a deep breath, forcing himself to calm.

Zevran gently cupped his cheek and tenderly kissed the young mage, smiling as Anders sank into the kiss. They lay holding each other; occasionally kissing, but mostly talking.

Anders talked about what it was like to be a mage, what it meant to grow up in the Circle and how he had fallen for Cullen.

Zevran talked about his younger years spent in a whore house before being sold to the Crows. He spoke of the training, of the torture and the pride in his accomplished skills.

"I'm messed up Zev, I miss Cullen so much but I've never been good with being alone."

Zevran smiled. "I ask nothing of you Anders, other than the pleasure of your company."

Anders lightly traced a tattoo that ran down Zevran's side, hesitating at the band of his breeches. "I'd like that." He whispered.


	24. Origins

Grace's progress to the Wilds was not as swift as she had hoped it would be. There seemed to be bandits every few miles on the road. Grace was true to her word and did not use her magic. She had on the dragon hide tunic and breeches and wore the daggers reluctantly and certainly had no intention of using them, so detours became a necessary part of their journey. Thankfully Hunter had a fantastic sense of direction and could always find their way back to the Imperial Highway.

They settled down by a stream a week into their journey, Hunter resting his head on her knees. It was more than obvious he was pining for Shadow. She gently stroked his ears; smiling as he pushed against her, wagging his tail. "You've got it bad." She murmured. The look he gave her spelt out quite clearly that he agreed. She planted a kiss on his head chuckling softly.

Hunter's head suddenly jerked up and he got to his feet; hackles raised, growling softly.

"What is it Hunter?" Grace saw a glimpse of burgundy and grabbed Hunter dragging him backwards into the thicker undergrowth. Her heart felt as though it was trying to burst out of her chest. Grace shivered as two Templars moved to the stream refilling their flasks. They were laughing about a mage they had recently captured who had been made tranquil. Grace clenched her fists wanting to make sure they could never hurt another mage, freezing at the sound of someone approaching, two more Templars moving to the stream. They stayed where they were until they had moved on. "I swear one day I will make sure mages don't have to fear Templars."

**xXx**

Grace had lost count of the days it took her to reach the Wilds; but by the time she reached the hut she was tired, her feet aching, she was dirty, hungry and frustrated from having to take yet another detour to avoid bandits. Killing with magic was one thing, although she had only ever killed Darkspawn, but the idea of sinking her blade into another human was unsettling. She cautiously approached Flemeth's hut, stopping when she saw Morrigan leaning against the door, almost as though waiting for her. "Morrigan?"

"Not quite."

Hunter gave a low growl, barring his teeth.

Grace paled in sudden understanding, nausea rising in her throat, her fingers resting on Hunter hoping to calm him. "Flemeth?" Her words were barely above a horrified whisper.

"Why so surprised, so much of this world must have been different to your expectations."

Grace thought of Loghain, Sten and Cullen and fleetingly thought of ripping the smug look off Flemeth's new face. "What happened to Morrigan; to the person she was, to her soul?"

"I simply transferred it to my body, but without my magic the body could no longer be sustained and alas perished."

"You really are an abomination aren't you?" The self-satisfied chuckle set Grace's teeth on edge. "Why, why would you do this?"

Flemeth looked at her curiously. "Morrigan is of no importance, do not mourn someone you never knew."

"I would have liked the opportunity to know her?" _Do you intend to carry the child yourself?_

"I'm not the only one whose appearance is somewhat altered to when last we met." Her tone was mocking and Grace felt a part of her snap.

"I have the Chantry after me. I needed an alternative look and I didn't steal a body to accomplish it! I came for the truth Flemeth."

"What truth do you seek?"

"Was I born in Ferelden?"

Flemeth raised her eyebrow, a smile curling her lips. "Yes."

"Who are my parents?"

"Have you not guessed?"

"Indulge me!"

"You are my daughter."

Grace heard the words, but had no way of processing them. She had no idea what she was expecting, but to be told she was Flemeth's daughter had not even entered her imagination. She stared at the witch of the Wild, her admission causing a chaos of questions to flood her mind. She supposed it made sense, her eye colour and her magic and yet it seemed unreal, why would she have been sent away. "And my father? I'm assuming it was a Warden given I can sense their taint." She pushed on regardless of the disbelief that tugged at her.

"You are no fool Grace, surely you have figured out by now that your father is the Warden Commander."

Grace realised she was staring in shock. "I...I thought Duncan was Morrigan's father." Flemeth's peeling laughter made her feel foolish.

"No child. Morrigan's father was a chasind man; not that, that is important."

"What did you tell Duncan about...about me?"

Flemeth narrowed her eyes. "I told him what I needed to, that you were no longer here. Whatever he chose to attribute to that is his own business."

Grace glared, remembering Duncan's face in the fade. "Why did you need a Warden to father your child?"

"That Duncan was a Warden was inconsequential, his lineage was of much more interest to me. I sent you elsewhere to ensure you survived. You were too important to risk."

"Important how?"

"At this moment in time it is not necessary for you to know."

"Bullshit!" Grace snarled. "You just tell me you're my mother, you sent me to a different world and you think it's not necessary for me to know why!"

"You are to remain with the Wardens, there is a Blight to stop. That is all you need concern yourself with."

Grace had no intention of letting it drop. "Why that family?"

Flemeth narrowed her eyes. "Did you expect me to have you coddled, raised as someone's little princess? You would have received no such nauseating behaviour from me."

"And you think the brutality was necessary?"

"This is a harsh world; violence is common place, especially to mages. You needed to be prepared. The transition would have been too traumatic otherwise."

Grace clenched her fists; nothing justified a father hitting his own child. Her mind froze, but she hadn't been his child. Her world shifted slightly, but settled back to the same viewpoint, he had been just as brutal to his wife and to Lily who she presumed was his daughter. "You sent me into that battle with no training, no warning. I could have died, then where would all your schemes have been?"

"But you didn't. You are strong willed, perhaps more than I would like but there it is. Your survival instinct has been finely honed; I knew you would find a way to live through it. As for training, your magic is your own and only you can unlock its secrets."

"How can I do magic simply with thought?"

"One day you will understand, but I have neither the time nor the patience to explain it to you now. Suffice it to say your magic though part arcane is something more and it is this that manifests your thoughts. She gave a cruel smile. "Be careful what you wish for."

Grace bit back the sharp words and changed tact. "What are you?"

Flemeth gave her a cold calculating look. "Legend tells of the seven old gods, sleeping in the form of dragons. What is not so well known is there is an eighth, her name is Anaria." She gave Grace a gleeful wink and low bow. "Otherwise known as Flemeth."

Grace stared at the women waiting for the punch line. "You're serious!"

Flemeth growled at the disbelief evident on Grace's face. "The others of my kind were trapped in their dragon forms by the Maker and put into a deep sleep. He was not so kind to me however. He trapped me in human form, a form that wither's and dies and so I was required to find creative ways to extend my life."

"If this is true, why would the Maker not trap you in Dragon form?"

"The Maker feared that I rivalled his own power."

Grace's jaw was hanging loose, sitting down hard on the grass feeling slightly sick. "What does that make me?" She whispered, half afraid that Flemeth would answer.

"You are whatever you need to be. I have told you your parentage; do with it what you will."

Grace felt light headed and had the urge to burst out laughing, though quickly suppressed it.

"The demon at the circle suggested that my parents and sister were killed so I could return. Is that true?"

Flemeth narrowed her eyes. "They were unimportant. If the girl you called sister had lived you would have searched for a way to return. Instead you accepted this world and your new life in it."

Grace felt sick, her anger flaring. "Lily was not unimportant."

Flemeth made a dismissive gesture. "One way or another she would have died by her father's hand, you being in that family simply delayed the inevitable."

Grace shuddered knowing she spoke the truth and hating her for it.

"You chose to leave Grace, long before I brought you home."

Grace reined in her grief, she had no intention of giving Flemeth any ammunition to use against her. "Couldn't you have just sent me to Antiva, or Orlais? It's a bit dramatic sending me to a different world don't you think!"

"Grace, are you really so limited? Why settle for this world where there is so much choice. In my long years I have travelled many worlds, I have many names." She stretched leisurely, a smile on her face.

Grace groaned, her head bursting.

Flemeth shook her head in disgust. "You cling to the relationships in your life, it is pitiful. The Templar Warden was nothing, irrelevant to the grander scheme of things."

Grace felt the rage rise within her like a white heat blinding her to common sense. "You didn't know him!" She hissed.

"Any why would I want to know a Templar? The world is better off with one less of them."

"The world is a poorer place without him!"

Flemeth moved closer to her, running her thumb where the brand had been. "Even experiencing what you have, you would defend this Templar?"

"Cullen was my friend!"

"He was a pawn of the Chantry before he joined the Warden ranks. You lie to yourself if you think he did not cling to the Chantry's teachings. His friendship would have been to ensure he could stay close, so he could shackle you if necessary. Friendship! Love!" She sneered. "These are things for fools. In the end they will be what will destroy you. Take my advice child, embrace your power and leave attachments to those who do not know better." She grabbed her jaw roughly. "I gave you life; I can take it just as easily."

Grace's head jerked up in astonishment, her eyes searching Flemeth's. She tackled her to the ground her hands slamming onto the witch's chest pouring ice into her. Flemeth gasped as she felt her chest begin to freeze, her lungs beginning to constrict. "I've had enough threats to last me a life time!" Grace snarled fiercely, her breath hot against Flemeth's ear. She was thrown back with the ease of a child throwing a toy and lay stunned on the grassy carpet; groaning, the wind knocked out of her.

"Such a temper."

Grace got angrily to her feet. "You haven't seen anything yet."

"Then show me." Flemeth changed her form to that of a dragon.

_Way to go Grace; let's just piss of the woman who can become a dragon. Only she's not a woman is she, idiot! _Grace glared; all of her grief, hatred and anger surging around her, gleaming like coils of black obsidian. Flemeth roared, flames shooting towards her. Grace drew them to herself; merging them with her energy and sent them back to Flemeth, taking a grim satisfaction as the magic fire tore into her underside, her blood spilling onto the earth. Her anger increased and the throb of the energy became a faster pulse, matching her heartbeat. She gave a roar as her body hummed, the magic curling around her, encouraging her to abandon her restraint.

"_**Come on Grace, you can do better than this." **_Flemeth voice boomed in her mind, taunting her. _**"You're more powerful than this!" **_

Grace gave herself to the magic as the fight wore on; it flowed through her body, stretching her beyond the limits of her wildest dreams. Their fight was violent and seemed to span a lifetime. Grace finally slammed her magic into Flemeth; smashing her to the ground, pinning her neck to the floor and sending ice into her open mouth. Flemeth's scream of rage was cut off sharply as she collapsed. There was an explosion of light and Grace was hurled from her mother, crashing onto the grassy floor.

**xXx**

_Grace drifted among distorted images of her journey in Ferelden; a strange mixture of what she had expected, merging with the reality. Anders sat watching her, perched on a wall, relaxed and charming as ever. Jumping off he sauntered over to her, giving her that grin that lit his eyes. He held her; his arms wrapping around her, his breath hot on her face. Her eyes met Cullen's and she sank into the intelligent depths as a pain, sharp and cold pierced her. She glanced down; gazing at the dagger buried in her stomach, the blood welling around the wound, spreading out across the cloth of the tunic she was wearing. Then it was Morrigan; or maybe Flemeth gently lowering her to the ground, smiling._

Grace woke sitting bolt upright, her hands pressing against her stomach. There was no blood, but there was pain and she suddenly found it difficult to breathe. She forced herself to be calm, containing the rising panic and opened her tunic. There was no wound, or even a mark and she tried to remember what happened.

_She was encased in white light. Flemeth was gazing at her, her eyes sharp and unwavering._

"_You cannot kill me."_

"_I'm aware of that, a piece of you is probably already on its way to the Dalish as we speak." _

_Flemeth gave a hiss then laughed. "You know much and yet know so little. We will meet again my daughter." Flemeth gave a wicked smile. "To your health." _

_Grace's eyes widened at the bolt of energy that hit her. The pain was intolerable and she tore at Flemeth with all the magic at her disposal, the air crackling and hissing with the magical discharge._

**xXx**

Hunter curled up to Grace, completely bewildered by the events in the Wilds and whimpered as her body tensed in her sleep. She cried out moments later; breaking out of her slumber, shaking and fists clenched. She clung to Hunter, trembling as she snuggled into his fur. It had been three days since her fight with Flemeth and each night she had the same dream.

Grace slipped out of the bed and added another log to the fire. She was making use of Flemeth's hut to rest and heal her wounds; it was fully stocked with all manner of herbs and potions. Anders had gone over the basics and she knew enough to know what she could use and what to stay away from. She snuggled back under the blanket, curling close to her furry protector. "Another few days Hunter and then we will head to Redcliffe."

Hunter licked her face, resting his head on her hip as she settled down. When awake her mind was filled with her new appreciation for the possibilities of her magic and wondering how she would tell Duncan of who she truly was. As she slipped into sleep the images started again where they had ended.

_Grace stared out at the wasteland. The sky was red, lit by the fire in the distance as a city burned. Broken trees still smoked, their charred and twisted forms like claws reaching out from the earth. She felt hot breath on her neck and terror made tears fill her eyes. She turned slowly, praying she wouldn't see what she knew she would. The Archdemon rose above her, the once beautiful dragon ravaged by the taint, its scales blackened and poisoned. The smell of death seemed to sink into her flesh. A claw moved down her body and she felt nausea rising again at the somehow intimate touch. The dragon was looking at her the stench of its decaying body washing over her. Its mouth opened._

"_**You will be my freedom."**_


	25. Ashes To Ashes

It was with relief that Duncan spied the turrets of Castle Redcliffe and quickened their pace to be done with the task. They had discovered it had been nearly two months since they had departed and he feared they would be too late.

Teagan greeted them; his face pale and deep shadows beneath his eyes, telling of sleepless nights. "I feared you were not going to return. Your quest was successful I hope."

"We have the Ashes." Duncan confirmed.

"Have you enough for two?" Teagan's tone practically got on its knees and begged.

"We were able to obtain only enough for one person. What has happened my Lord?"

"I think it is best you see for yourself."

**xXx**

Duncan closed his eyes in frustration as they were taken to Alistair's bed chamber. The Prince looked on the edge of death; his face pale, his body motionless.

"He stopped responding just under a week ago." Teagan murmured, having already explained how the Prince had arrived.

"Maker's breath this is madness." Duncan muttered.

"There must be something we can do." Anders stated.

"We retrieved the Ashes for the Arl." Duncan's hard tone silencing them all. "I grieve for the Prince, but we need those who can aid directly with the Blight. We must help the Arl and hope that Alistair somehow pulls through."

The companions withdrew apart from Anders, Zevran and Aedan. Anders knelt down beside the Prince and gently took his wrist; biting his lip at the faint, erratic pulse. "Alistair, you need to hold on." He said firmly, beginning what would be two hours of every combination of healing spells he could think of. When at last he pulled away, there was no change. He leant against Zevran despairing. "I don't know what else to try."

"You need rest my friend." Zevran's firm voice tolerating no argument and he led the mage to a room set aside for him; lying down beside him, holding him protectively as he slept.

Aedan stayed pulling up a chair and resting his hand on Alistair's shoulder. "You are strong my friend, just hold on a little longer." He paled at Alistair's agonised moan. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat and gripped Alistair's hand. "Alistair you have to live do you hear me? I know I have been distant, but you are as much a brother to me as Fergus ever was. Damn it Alistair I can't lose you too." He stayed with Alistair through the night, speaking of their childhood and their moments of mischief. He finally fell asleep still holding Alistair's hand as dawn light spilled across the sky.

**xXx**

The Arl lay as still and as pale as death. Isolde clutched his icy hand, her eyes closed in prayer. The ritual with the ashes had been completed and with baited breath they waited. Nothing happened. Isolde and Teagan glanced frantically at Duncan who stared back helplessly. The Arl lived for three more hours, before drawing his final breath.

**xXx**

It was only the thought of a warm bed that kept Grace going and she smiled in relief when she saw Castle Redcliffe. Exhausted she declared herself at the gate, the guard allowing her to pass. Hunter ran on ahead; racing into the hall and bounding around Shadow, who barked happily.

Anders ran out of the hall; down the steps and pulled Grace into his arms, swinging her around and hugging her tightly.

Grace laughed, clasping her hands around his neck. It felt so good to be held. She glanced behind Anders as Zevran joined them giving her his most charming smile. She moved back from Anders still smiling. "It's good to see you too." She laughed.

"You have been a miss my dear enchantress." Zevran said, leaning over and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"I'm sure you two consoled each other over my departure." Grace grinned delighted at the blush staining the unflappable assassin's cheeks. "Oh my, have I touched a nerve." She flashed him a wicked grin and turned to Anders who was scarlet.

"We... it's just that...well we went through some pretty awful stuff and we got...well...close." Anders mumbled, his cheeks beaming.

Grace tried to keep her face straight, but the effort was immense. She felt only relief that Anders was finding some happiness amidst his grief and she adored Zevran and somehow it seemed right that they should be together. She moved to the mage, taking his hand in her own. She leant closer, but still spoke loud enough for Zevran to hear. "You have wonderful taste, Zev is gorgeous." Anders flushed. "Ah, now to make this reunion perfect I just need a handsome Prince."

Anders face fell.

"Anders what's wrong?"

"Grace there's something you should know."

**xXx**

Grace stared at Alistair horrified by his deathly appearance.

Aedan glanced up at her, his face drawn with exhaustion. He had barely left Alistair's side, willing his friend to live.

Anders swallowed painfully. "I tried everything I could think of Grace. I swear."

She glanced at Anders nodding. "I know." She knelt down by the bed, taking Alistair's cold hand in her own. His pulse was erratic and his breathing became laboured, he was dying. "Alistair You're strong; this poison isn't going to kill you, do you hear me!"

Aedan moved back slightly, silently praying that she would be able to save him.

A curious rattling noise bubbled in Alistair's chest. He let out a wheezing breath and they all knew it would soon be his last.

Grace bent close to him, determination gleaming in her eyes. "If the Maker wants you, He'll have to come through me!" Pressing her hands gently to his chest she summoned her magic, golden light flowing into his lungs, easing them until his breath became steady and even. She allowed herself to open up to the magic, letting it guide her. It was dizzying, and the surge of power left her breathless. She had to force herself to focus; to concentrate as the magic spanned out from her body, wrapping around Alistair in coils of light that gleamed like amethyst. "I love you." She whispered, pressing her lips gently to his. The light burst within his body; flowing through his muscles, blood and bone, healing and restoring. Grace felt herself sink into him, becoming part of him as for an instant they became pure energy. It was moments before Grace was aware that she was sitting next to Alistair; her body shaking, her breath loud in her ears.

Aedan, Anders and Zevran stared wide eyed.

Alistair slowly opened his eyes. He knew it was Grace despite the differences in her appearance. She had come into his prison in a blaze of fire lighting the way. His hand grasped hers, the skin soft against him. "My love."

Grace gave a half sob; half laugh and flung her arms around his neck, burying her face into his hair.

**xXx**

Anders climbed up onto the battlements and sat down next to Grace who had her eyes closed, content to feel the cool breeze on her face. After ensuring Alistair was sleeping comfortably she left Aedan to watch over him and left to get some air and calm the hammering of her heart. She turned as he sat down, giving him that wonderful smile that made his heart sing.

"You were amazing." He whispered. "I've never seen magic like that before."

Grace smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Desperation is a hell of a motivator." She glanced up. "I've missed you."

He wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her tight to him, gently planting a kiss on the top of her head. "I missed you too."

"So..." She gave him a mischievous grin. "You and Zevran."

Anders chuckled. "Yeh, it was a bit of a surprise to me to. I'm not over Cullen please don't think that; I don't think I ever will be, but things happened and I … I needed to move on from the grief. I couldn't function, I …" He stopped as she squeezed his hand.

"Anders, I'm very happy for you."

He pressed another kiss to the top of her head. "Love you." He whispered.

Grace smiled and snuggled against him. "Love you too."

"Come on then, tell me what happened with Flemeth."

Grace let out a deep breath and looked at her fellow mage. "You'd never believe me."

**xXx**

The Arl's pyre was attended by the entire village who mourned his passing deeply. Isolde clung to Conner who stared wide eyed at the flames, his thin frame shaking. Teagan wrapped his arms around them both, Isolde leaning against him as her tears fell. Isolde had always been a deeply religious woman, but her faith had been sorely tested and she had plunged into despair at the failure of the Ashes. No-one had known quite what to think, but the Wardens had been furious that they had gone through so much for nothing. Teagan mourned his brothers passing and wearily accepted that he would now have to take over Redcliffe. Eamon had no heir, since Conner was to be sent to the Circle. The only consolation for the Wardens was Teagan was prepared to give them whatever support they needed.

**xXx**

It was evening, two days since Alistair had returned to consciousness. He was sitting up in bed, his fingers running through the short black hair that he was only just getting used to. He smiled as green eyes caught his, luminescent in the flickering light from the fire, which warmed his room. He sighed in contentment as she kissed him gently. "It takes a bit of getting used to." He murmured, smiling at her questioning glance. "Your new look."

"Well this way I hopefully won't be recognised. Being the Chantry's number one enemy is no fun."

Alistair held her close. "I will find a way to stop this."

"You just concentrate on building up your strength." She gazed at him lovingly. "No heroics."

He laughed into the kiss, holding her as tight to him as he could. "When I was sleeping; just for an instant I felt like we were one person, one soul. You were so beautiful, golden and pure."

Grace smiled. _I'm anything but pure; one half taint one half, well let's not go there._ "Sounds like a nice dream."

"So; tell me what happened, you did not go with the others to Haven."

Grace let out a deep breath and pulled back slightly; holding his hands, wondering what to say. "I went to Flemeth. I needed to check out some information I was given at the Circle."

"And?"

"It was disturbing. I haven't really processed it all myself yet."

"Tell me." He murmured sleepily.

Grace encouraged him to lie down and she snuggled next to him. Resting her head on his chest she listened to the now strong, steady beat of his heart. "Flemeth and Duncan are my parents." She tensed, waiting for his reaction. When there was only silence she risked looking at him to find him sleeping peacefully. "Thanks for listening Alistair." She murmured affectionately, slipping out of the room as he slept to fetch fresh water.

Grace was on her way back to Alistair's room when the reality of their situation crashed in on her. The Chantry was trying to kill her and Alistair had been poisoned. Grace leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes and forcing herself to calm down. _We'll find a way out of this._ When she opened her eyes Duncan was standing in front of her. She had avoided him since her return from the Wilds, which had been easy enough as most of her time was spent with Alistair, but Duncan had been aware of it nonetheless.

His eyes held her gaze. "Are you ready to speak of your journey to Flemeth yet?"

Grace trembled, her eyes fixing on the floor. _Hi Duncan; I'm your long lost daughter, oh and I happen to be directly related to the Archdemon. That's not going to go down well. _She sighed. "You might want to take a seat."

Duncan felt his world flip. Grace was the right age, her eyes were Flemeth's but her laugh and some of her features reminded him of his own grandmother. He remembered the Guardian's words his stomach churning. All these years he had believed she was dead, he almost didn't dare allow himself to believe it could be true, but he had to know. "Flemeth is your mother isn't she?"

Grace struggled to swallow the lump in her throat and simply nodded.

"And your father?" He hated the tremble in his voice, but her look told him all he needed to know. He cupped her cheek in a tender gesture. "I thought you were dead Grace, if I had known you were alive I would have spent my life looking for you. I swear it."

Her heart began to pound as his warm eyes sought a permission of sorts. "Duncan I …" How could she explain to him that her experience with the man who had raised her had brought her nothing but pain? That he had been brutal and unforgiving.

Duncan let his hand fall. "Grace; I don't expect you to forgive me, but I hope one day you will allow me to call you daughter."

Grace felt the tears well in her eyes, his words filling a part of her heart she hadn't realised was empty. Would it be so bad to be held by him, by her father? Wasn't this what she had always wanted, a father who loved her. Grace closed her eyes the tears slipping down her cheeks, before she gave him an uncertain smile and closed the gap between them.

Duncan held Grace close; his heart hammering so loudly in his chest that he thought it would burst. His daughter was alive and in his arms. His broken heart had begun to heal as she had accepted his embrace. He realised they had an audience, his Wardens watching with astonished grins on their faces. Duncan gently pulled back and kissed her forehead. "We can talk tomorrow; I know you must be eager to get back to Alistair."

Grace smiled, and nodded. "Good night Duncan, I mean father, I mean ..." She flushed. "Goodnight."

Duncan watched as she left the room, murmuring his own goodnight.

Danforth clasped his shoulder and grinned. "Well now we know where she gets her stubborn streak from."

**xXx**

Anora groaned as nausea washed over her. She had never been maternal and certainly was not happy at the prospect of the changes her body was undergoing, but her drive to remain Queen overrode everything. She was stubborn if nothing else. Her concern however was the information from Redcliffe that the Arl had died, but Alistair still lived. Their mage assassin had also shown up, expecting Loghain to intervene on his behalf with the Circle. She was not sure what had happened to the mage, but was sure it wasn't what he had expected.

Cailan although astonished, was overjoyed that his wife was at last pregnant. It never occurred to him that he was not the father.

**xXx**

Redcliffe was a sombre place with the Arl's death and the removal of Conner to the Circle. They were due to leave for Denerim in the next few days as Duncan required certain items from their hidden cache there and everyone was taking their last opportunities to rest and resupply while they had the chance. From Denerim the plan was to journey to Orzammar.

They were eating in the great hall when a messenger arrived, passing a sealed parchment to Teagan. He read the note quickly, his eyebrow raised. "I've had people in Denerim watching the palace given our unusual circumstances." Teagan commented to Alistair. "After we have eaten I suggest we talk." He gave Alistair an uncertain glance. "We have much to discuss."

Alistair raised an eyebrow curious at Teagan's expression. "Teagan?"

"This is a discussion best had in private."

They glanced up startled as a second messenger strode into the hall ignoring the protests of the servant who had received him. "My lords and ladies I come with joyous news. King Cailan wishes all to join him in his great joy that Queen Anora is with child."

Alistair spat out the meat he was chewing as he choked, Teagan hitting his back.

The messenger glanced at him startled but quickly recovered himself. "Prince Alistair, the King hoped you would still be here." He flushed slightly. "He requests your immediate return to Denerim to join in the celebration of the child so long awaited."

Alistair was ghastly pale and visibly shaking. "Thank you for the news." He managed. "I am sure Teagan will ensure you receive food and rest before you continue your journey."

"Thank you I would be most grateful, your Highness, my lord." He bowed as the servant led him out.

"Maker this cannot be happening." Alistair whispered.

Teagan stood. "Alistair perhaps this discussion cannot wait."

Alistair followed him out not daring to look at anyone, his heart pounding painfully as he passed Grace.

Anders locked eyes with Grace knowing she was thinking the same thing he was. He stretched. "You know I think I will get some fresh air."

Grace stood. "I will join you." She swayed as the fresh air hit her.

Anders pulling her into his arms and guided her quickly down the steps. "Breathe Grace."

"I didn't just imagine that did I? I mean the look on his face and Teagan's. The child is Alistair's isn't it?"

Anders winced coaxing her to sit on the wall. "Grace I'm sure there is an explanation for this."

"You were right Anders I'm such a fool, he's a prince and I'm a mage there was never a future for us, but the Queen! His own brother's wife! I just never imagined he would do something like that."

"Grace I speak from experience, you can love someone and still mess up."

Grace gave him a weak smile and leaned against his chest. "Okay, I get it. I will speak with him."

**xXx**

Alistair sank onto the seat and looked up at Teagan. "You knew?"

Teagan passed Alistair the parchment he had received just prior to the enthusiastic messenger. "Only moments earlier. Read this and then we will talk." The paper fell from his shaking hands moments later, Teagon retrieving the letter and placing it on the desk. "Alistair, I am sorry."

"He would not do this Teagan, Cailan is my brother."

"Erlina is a reliable source Alistair."

"I … no Cailan would not poison me."

"You did not believe he would poison Eamon either. Alistair by telling him you knew of what occurred with him you signed your own death sentence. I warned you not to confront him."

Alistair shivered painfully. "This is a nightmare."

"The Queen is another matter Alistair, she is dangerous. The disposal of a mage from her private rooms, the use of a potion with … well with yourself."

"How could Erlina know all of this and more to the point why is she telling you?"

Teagon flushed. "Erlina was hired by my brother. Eamon and Anora have not seen eye to eye for some time. Alistair not to be too blunt she needed a Theirin child; you were the only choice she had. Cailan has been with many women and there has never been a child and she was running out of time."

"Why announce this so soon, she is barely two months with child."

"I suspect to draw us out."

Alistair shook his head. "What do we do now?"

"We survive Alistair. We protect ourselves and _you_ stay as far from Denerim as you can."

**xXx**

Grace glanced up at the knock followed by Alistair. He looked pale and unwell.

Anders stood and squeezed her shoulder. "I'll be in my room if you need me."

Alistair watched him leave, flinching at the glare. He sank onto a seat glancing up at Grace who was perched on the end of the bed. "I need to tell you something."

Grace sighed. "Anora is having your baby isn't she?"

Alistair opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again having no idea what to say.

Slowly Grace rose to her feet ignoring his anguished eyes fixed on her. _Stay calm, be dignified._

"Grace it's not what you think. I thought she was you." Alistair cried out as she turned from him.

Grace shook her head; biting her lip, willing her anger to calm. "Of course you did, because I look so much like the Queen."

"I was drugged Grace." Alistair rose to his feet, crying out in desperation.

"What?"

"Anora drugged me." He sank back into his seat, burying his head in his hands. "I should have told you, but I had no idea how to tell you. She looked like you!" His voice was broken. "I swear Grace you are the only woman I have ever loved." His fists clenched in anger. "Anora used me to further her own ambitions," He shuddered in revulsion. "And now she is going to have my child."

Grace stared at the floor willing her heart beat to slow. "What the hell is wrong with your family?" She muttered at last, leaning back against the wall her head pounding.

"Five years is a long time to try for a baby, I guess she grew tired of waiting." He mumbled.

Grace turned to him horrified. "What so she just thought she'd conceive with you instead!"

"It gets worse Grace, Cailan … Maker my own brother poisoned me."

Grace paled. "You have proof?"

"It is with Teagan."

"Okay so Anora can't get pregnant with Cailan, which means a case could be made for divorcing her."

Alistair ran his fingers through his hair. "Eamon was advising my brother to do just that."

Grace's eyes widened. "Did Anora know?"

"Yes. Grace what are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting the bitch was terrified she was going to lose her position and got rid of the Arl, used you to conceive a child then poisoned you to get rid of you. I doubt your brother would take kindly to her carrying another man's child. With you gone only she would know and she's not going to tell him. Your resemblance to your brother is striking so no-one would question the parentage."

"I just cannot believe even Anora could be that cruel." He whispered, shaking his head.

Grace folded her arms and rested against the small desk. "You have a better explanation? Because the only other one is that this is your way of covering up that you slept with her willingly. I'd rather know the truth Alistair, whatever it is."

Alistair moved towards her, the anguish clear in his eyes. "I swear to you Grace; on my honour, on my life that I did not join her willingly. When she came into the room she was herself. I told her to leave. There was that damn smell and then lips against mine and I was looking at you." He closed his eyes in frustration. "Maker I knew it felt wrong, but I wanted to be with you so badly and then we were making love and … Oh Maker what have I done."

Grace took hold of his hands, gently kissing the tiny scars from his fight with the Templar's in her defence. He watched her, uncertain and in distress. "They will pay for what they have done." She stated softly. "I'll make sure of it."

**xXx**

Grace awoke early the next morning to find herself in bed alone. She glanced around the room, but there was no sign of Alistair. Then she remembered after yesterday's revelations he had chosen to sleep in his own room. With a sigh she sat up tucking her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She had made it plain she had wanted him to stay with her; but he had withdrawn, unable to come to terms with the fact that someone other than the woman he loved was carrying his child. _I'm going to kill Anora one day._ With a sigh of frustration she quickly washed and dressed and took herself to the main hall for breakfast. Grace felt her stomach tighten when she didn't see him. "Does anyone know where Alistair is?" Grace frowned as everyone was suddenly looking at something else. "Where is he Lel?"

"He left for Denerim about an hour ago. He refused to let anyone go with him. He said he was going to deal with Cailan and Anora, though he would not explain why."

Grace shot to her feet furious. "And you just let him go. Alone!"

"Peace my friend." Teagan said gently entering the room. "I sent men after him, he was returned only moments ago. I have him under guard in case he tries anything so foolish again."

Grace relaxed visibly. "Where is he?"

"The study."

She was across the room and entering the study before anyone could say anything. Alistair sat hunched in a chair, unshaven, dusty and looking thoroughly miserable. Grace wanted to yell at him; ask him how he could be so stupid, but one look at his face and her anger died. He gave her a brief glance before closing his eyes. Grace gently moved his arms and sat in his lap, pulling his arms around her, smiling at his startled look. "Whatever you were planning to do, I bet it would work better if there was the two of us." Alistair pulled her tight and she realised he was shaking.

"I am truly sorry about all of this. Grace I love you, please believe me." His voice was trembling.

Grace gently pulled his chin until he was facing her. "I do believe you Alistair and I love you. We are in this together; so no running off to deal with it yourself, because I almost lost you once and I'm not letting your brother and his wife have another go." Silent tears slipped down his cheeks and she kissed him gently. "I'm sorry Alistair; it's awful, but you don't need them, you have us, you have me."

"I thank the Maker for the day you came into my life." He murmured.

She smiled and nestled close, listening as his heart finally fell into a steady beat.


	26. Sacrifice

Duncan couldn't resist the fleeting looks he sent in his daughter's direction as they travelled the road to Denerim.

"She's still there." Gavarth said with a chuckle.

Duncan grinned, not in the least minding the teasing. "I'm still getting used to her being my daughter."

Grace squeezed Alistair's hand and darted back falling into step with Duncan. "Can I ask something?"

Her soft voice reminded him of warm summer nights and corn fields speckled with poppies. "Of course."

"How did you know I was your daughter?"

He realised that everyone was paying attention, though trying to look like they were otherwise occupied. He raked his fingers through his dark hair, re-binding it as it fell about his face. "You look like your great grandmother, my mother's mother." He smiled as Grace stopped in her tracks and stared at him. "She had the same fiery hair; though not quite as vibrant as yours and you have her voice, her laugh."

Grace felt her heart swell; maybe she was more human, than whatever Flemeth being her mother made her. "What was she like?"

"She was strong; wise, intelligent. I stayed with her as a young boy. She taught me how to survive. Staying with her on that farm felt like home." He sighed wistfully for a childhood long gone.

"When did you know?"

"I think it was always at the back of my mind." He considered as they started walking again, "But I really started to wonder seriously about it after our experience in the Fade at the Circle."

"That's when I thought you were Morrigan's father. That gave Flemeth a laugh at my expense."

Duncan glanced to Grace his own questions demanding answers. "Grace, why did she send you away and where did she send you?" Duncan saw her hesitation, but refused to break the silence between them. She could be so damn secretive sometimes it almost drove him mad.

"Flemeth's motivations are a mystery to me," Grace said at last, looking at him so he would know she spoke the truth. "I asked why she sent me away and all she said was it would revel itself in time. As for where she sent me..." Grace hesitated.

Duncan felt his stomach churn. She would have had another family, people who would have acted as her parents. He felt sick at the thought that someone else had raised her. Some other man had held her in his arms as a baby, tended to her scrapes and read her stories before bed. He gripped her shoulder sensing her grief. "Tell me when you're ready."

Grace nodded gratefully, moving ahead once more and slipping her hand into Alistair's.

Duncan watched them walk together, his daughter and her Prince. Duncan had been let in on the information from Denerim, horrified to discover the circumstances of not only the attempt on his life, but of how Alistair would become a father and he realised how heavily it rested on his young shoulders. He had attempted to encourage him to stay in Redcliffe as had Teagan, but he refused to be parted from Grace. Grace had made him promise to stay outside the walls of Denerim knowing how much he wanted to confront his brother and Anora, he had reluctantly agreed.

His thoughts turned to Flemeth. He remembered well the taste of the Witch's lips, the feel of her skin against his and his ecstasy as she gave herself to him. He had realised quickly all she had wanted was a child. His expression darkened as he remembered Flemeth's final words to him. His daughter was gone and there was no place for him with her. He had returned to the Wardens bereft. They were none the wiser as he had been on another mission that he had fulfilled. He clenched his fists, so much time lost. Grace clearly got her magical talent from her mother; but the mystery surrounding Flemeth seemed to continue in her daughters and he was afraid for Grace, fearful of those seeking to destroy her simply for those talents that had aided them so much. He sighed, at least she would never be required to make the ultimate sacrifice and take the final blow. That was his duty and he clung to the precious moments with her as their time together continued to run out.

**xXx**

Leliana and Grace had been watching the house for over two hours and no one had left, or entered.

"You're sure that's the place?"

Leliana nodded to her friend, eager to have this part of her life over. They had arranged to meet the others at the Pearl by evening. No-one had questioned them given everyone seemed to have their own errands to run. Alistair and both mabari had remained at the camp outside of the walls of Denerim. Despite his protests even Alistair had to admit entering Denerim would not be his wisest option. They moved quickly, entering the house.

"Well my dear Leliana, you have not brought who I expected. Where is the Cousland?"

"I quit Marjolaine!"

Grace glanced to her friend as her voice wavered with nerves.

"Let me make this plain Leliana; you are mine, there is no leaving unless it is by death."

Leliana darted forward and Grace fleetingly wondered why Marjolaine did not even flinch, hissing as magic flared to life and Leliana was caught in a paralysis trap. Men poured from rooms to either side of the Bard Master. _Well this isn't good. _Grace called on her magic, over half of Marjolaine's force falling at the first wave of energy. She locked eyes with Marjolaine and was disturbed to see her smile. Turning sensing movement behind her, she was slammed into the ground by a Qunari. Grace felt his fingers tightening around her throat, her struggles weakening. _This was a bad idea_. Grace thought as she passed out.

**xXx**

Grace woke to find Leliana sobbing quietly, gripping her hand. Groaning painfully she tried to sit up, realising she could barely move. Leliana's hug was almost too much for her bruised and battered body. "Where are we?"

"Fort Drakon!"

Grace was unnerved by the fear in the bards voice. She gingerly sat up with Leliana's help, watching two guards as they threw an unconscious man into the cell next to them. The biggest guard gave a toothy grin and opened their cell door. They grabbed Leliana and to Grace's horror she couldn't even rise from the floor. The tear stained eyes of the bard haunting her as she was dragged out.

**xXx**

Leliana groaned and tried to move; but found herself restricted, though she couldn't seem to focus on what was stopping her moving. She groaned again as sensation returned to her body and she realised it was unpleasant. Her left temple throbbed painfully and she vaguely remembered the pommel of a sword coming towards her after she had been taken from the cell. Forcing herself to open her eyes she squinted in the dim light and tried to gain some measure of her surroundings. Her wrists were bound together and she felt rather than the saw the bruising caused by the ropes chaffing on her skin. Her ankles were also bound together and she realised both wrists and ankles were secured to the rack she was laying on. She squirmed trying to get a better view of the room and felt the sickening turning of her stomach and the burning in her throat as nausea washed over her. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, her usually nimble fingers set to work on the ropes. Her efforts were useless however, her fingers cold and stiff from their forced position.

"What no Warden to save you?" A silky voice thick and poisonous seemed to bleed into her ears. Marjolaine moved into view, her hips swaying in victory. "My dear; dear Leliana, what a position to find yourself in." She chuckled as Leliana ground her teeth in misery. "I will leave you in the capable hands of Raynor. We will not meet again."

Leliana was aware of brief moments of respite; when there was only darkness before the screaming started again, her screaming.

Raynor was a master of his art and took his time; enjoying the feel of her soft skin against his fingers, as he made her bleed.

**xXx**

Grace glanced over to the unconscious man in the adjoining cell. His dark brown hair fell over his face and his beard was thick, but she knew in her heart who he was, the resemblance to Aedan was too strong. She crawled over to the bars that separated them and placed a hand on his shoulder, gently flowing a little healing magic into his battered body. He groaned and sat up regarding her with warm brown eyes. "Fergus Cousland?" He nodded, his throat too parched to speak. His body bore the marks of old and new torture and Grace wondered how long he had been in this place. A guard passed by throwing a water skin, Fergus drank greedily almost choking. "How long have you been here?"

"Since Highever was assaulted by that snake Howe." His voice was barely more than a croak.

"Fergus, that's been almost a year!"

He nodded dismally, leaning heavily against the bars. "He keeps me alive so he can torture me with what he did to my family." Fergus's eyes glistened with tears. "I couldn't stop any of it and now I'm the only one left."

Grace gently clasped his chin turning him to face her. "Aedan is alive. He is a Grey Warden."

Fergus stared at her, hesitant hope gleaming in his eyes. "You are sure?"

"Very sure. We have to get you out of here." Grace pulled back as the cell door was opened and Leliana was dropped unceremoniously on the floor. Grace crawled to her friend horrified by the bruised and bloodied unconscious woman.

"She looks in a bad way." Fergus muttered.

"We need to get out of here, now." Grace made sure the guards were at the far end of the room before she carefully sent what healing energy she could and gave a sigh of relief when Leliana opened her eyes. The bard shuddered violently and accepted her friend's embrace, tears spilling down her bruised cheeks.

Leliana whimpered painfully; starring at her hands sobbing, each finger had been broken.

Grace gently wiped her tears trying to ease the pain, but they needed Anders, she had no idea how to reset bones and was terrified that she would make things worse. "I'm going to get you out of here."

Leliana simply nodded, too distressed to speak.

Grace glanced at the lock then rose and watched as one guard left the room, the other moving back towards the cells. Grace leaned against the bars and smiled at him. He swaggered towards her the cell keys jangling on his belt. Grace forced herself to remain where she was despite the rancid odour that seemed to float around him.

"Need something _miss_?" He snickered.

Grace smiled pressing against the bars. "Actually, yes."

Fergus almost chuckled as the guard's head smashed against the bars, Grace keeping hold of him while she undid his belt before letting him drop, her nose wrinkled at the smell. Grace held up the cell keys and turned to Fergus and Leliana. "Let's get the hell out of here."

**xXx**

Grace helped both Leliana and Fergus into the spare armour they had found, making sure the helmets that hid the majority of their faces. Unfortunately there had only been two sets and their plan to escape had to be quickly readjusted. "Remember, anyone asks you're taking me to the Chantry for questioning."

Fergus nodded; fear knotting his stomach at the risk they were taking.

"Anything goes wrong head to the Pearl and ask for a message to be sent to Zevran. Since we didn't turn up I assume they will be looking for us, so someone may still be there." She leaned to his ear. "Whatever happens get Leliana out of here, she needs Anders."

Fergus nodded, grasping her hand. "Thank you."

They passed numerous guards who neither noticed Leliana's hands; nor asked questions about their prisoner, turning back to conversations of slights with commanding officers and planned trips to the Pearl when they moved on. They exited the main doors relief flooding them; hesitating as they noticed four Templar's in the courtyard. Grace's heart sank and she heard Leliana's soft whimper. "They don't know me." Grace whispered. "Keep walking."

"Halt!" The lead Templar barred their progress. He glanced to Grace his eyes narrowing. "Where are you taking her?"

Fergus stepped forward slightly. "We were told she was wanted for questioning by Teyrn Loghain, we have orders to take her to his estate."

"That is highly irregular."

Fergus moved towards the Templar lowering his voice. "It is not my place to question orders Ser Templar."

The Templar pushed passed Fergus and gripped Grace's arm his face hidden by his helmet. He knew she was a mage, but he had felt this particular energy only once before. He had tied her to that slab himself, participated in the rite until the damn prince had broken his nose. He tried to remain calm, bringing her in would mean a promotion for sure and likely any posting he desired. He could barely contain his glee. Instead he turned to the guard who had spoken to him. "She matches the description we have for a woman wanted by the Chantry. Loghain will have to wait." He gave a harsh chuckle. "I'm sure he can question what's left when we finish with her."

"We have orders." Fergus persisted.

"I'm changing them." The Templar snarled.

Grace raised her eyes to him wondering how they could have known of her change of appearance and felt the cold steel of his gauntleted fist smash into her jaw.

Leliana could barely hold in her scream as they dragged her now unconscious friend out of the gates towards the Chantry.

**xXx**

Leliana and Fergus limped their way to the Pearl, Leliana almost sobbing with relief to see Aedan, Anders and Zevran nursing drinks. Their agitation and frustration was clear. She noticed Aedan's hand moving to the hilt of his sword as they approached.

"What do you want?" His voice tinged with menace. Leliana bent low, fixing him with a piercing gaze. Aedan's eyes widened, he would know those azure eyes anywhere. "Leliana."

"We need to get out of here."

"Where's Grace?" Anders whispered. "And who is this?"

Aedan paled. "Makers breath what happened to your hands?"

"We need to get to the others then we can explain everything."

It took every ounce of restraint on Fergus's part to hold back from hugging his brother while they were in the city, but once beyond its gates he tossed aside the helmet. "Aedan."

Aedan gave a gulped sob and clasped his brother in his strong embrace. "Fergus." He whispered, choked by his tears.

The two brothers clung to each other for several moments, as though afraid if they let go the other would vanish. Fergus took a deep steadying breath and pulled back first.

"Where have you been brother?" Aedan grew concerned at how pale and thin his brother was despite the bulky armour and was drawn to the dark bruises on his throat.

"Fort Drakon."

Aedan stared at him horrified and glanced to Leliana in confusion. "What were you doing in there, both of you?"

Leliana winced as Anders was sending a trickle of healing magic through her to help with the pain. "Please we will tell you everything; but there isn't the time to tell this tale over, Grace is in danger."

The camp was just beyond the walls and they were with the others in ten minutes. Anders carefully set about healing the two former prisoners, his heart turning icy when he heard of Grace's plight.

"How did you get taken to Fort Drakon in the first place?" Aedan questioned Leliana in confusion.

Leliana sighed. "We had a confrontation with a previous employer of mine. We were overwhelmed and when we woke up we were imprisoned." She shivered, trying to flex her stiff fingers.

"Gently Leliana." Anders chided. "They were badly broken; you will need to give them a little time."

The bard nodded miserably. Aedan kissed her hands gently, suddenly wishing he hadn't sounded so harsh. "Do you have any idea where they would have taken her?"

"I'm assuming the Chantry, though where they keep their prisoners I do not know." Leliana looked at the ground, misery washing over her. "Aedan we have to get her back before they do something awful."

He nodded pulling her close. "We will."

"They will kill her this time." Anders whispered with a shuddering breath.

Alistair and Duncan glared at him, but they had been thinking the same.

Zevran wrapped his arm around him. "We will get her back, I swear."

Alistair paced the campsite in fury watching Zevran, Anders and Maverin head into Denerim. It was Anders who had finally convinced him to stay; arguing that if anything happened to him Grace would never forgive herself. He glanced up as Aedan moved from his brother and halted his pacing.

"They will get her back Alistair."

"Maker I hope so."

**xXx**

Zevran slipped into the darkened alcove as Anders and Maverin kept watch. It was the third such alcove and had led to store rooms only. The door refused to open and he set to work, the lock clicking barely a minute later, Zevran slipping down the stairs and moving cautiously along a corridor lined with cells. He turned as someone began to laugh. He eased up to the bars seeing a Templar standing over a body.

The Templar stepped out of the cell and found himself on his knees a blade to his throat.

"A young woman was brought here." Zevran hissed. "Short black hair, green eyes."

The Templar was a coward at heart, terrified that he would be killed. "She … she was here."

"And now?"

"Taken to a private Chantry building." He gasped. "It's where they take the special ones."

"Special ones?" Zevran's heart was thudding painfully.

"The ones they need to dispose of."

Zevran pressed the blade tighter to the Templars throat. "Tell me, where is this building?"

"If I tell you, you will kill me."

Zevran span him around and pinned him to the wall. "That will happen regardless. You are bargaining for a swift death, believe me I can make it long and painful."

The Templar whimpered losing control of his bladder.

Zevran wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I am running out of patience; tell me where this other building is."

The Templar shivered; begging for his life, before spilling out the directions terrified by Zevran's expression. His eyes widened as Zevran thrust him into the cell before drawing the blade across his throat. Zevran tossed his body to the floor making it appear the prisoner had resisted and killed the Templar before dying himself.

Zevran hurried back up the stairs pulling his cloak tightly around him as he left the Chantry, Anders and Maverin following moments later. They slipped through the streets of Denerim staring in horror at the building the Templar had directed them too. There was a huge amount of security and in dismay they returned to the camp realising this would be no quick rescue.

**xXx**

Grace woke with a groan to find herself in a dimly lit room, her wrists chained above her head and embarrassingly naked. She tried to focus, but her vision remained hazy. A dull throb moved through her body and she tensed hearing footsteps stop outside of the room. Her breath caught as two Templar's entered the room along with a Mother she vaguely recognised.

"Awake at last. Good."

The Mother had a high nasal voice that seemed to scratch inside Grace's brain. "What do you want?" She managed to say, her tongue thick in her mouth with dehydration.

"Want; why I want you to die, but you must be cleansed before returning to the Maker, cleansed of your sin. Did you really think you could elude us? A change of appearance could not help you, we have eyes everywhere."

Grace trembled, her memory at last placing the Mother at Ostagar. She tried to call on her magic, but winced as a sharp throb pierced the back of her head and swept down her body.

"Your magic will be useless to you." Mother Lucia stated triumphantly. "We have already dosed you with magebane."

Grace stared at her uncomprehending; then tried to struggle as a Templar moved forward, forcing a thick liquid past her lips. It burnt like fire and she screamed painfully, sobbing as it seemed to tear her apart.

"You must be cleansed of your magic. You have proven yourself immune to the Rite of Tranquillity; therefore we must look to other methods."

Grace realised with gut wrenching clarity that she was going to be tortured. She knew looking at the Mothers eyes there would be no point in begging. She steeled herself as she had when her father's fists had rained down on her, refusing to show her fear. "The Maker would be disgusted by you." She spat.

"We do the Makers work!" Mother Lucia hissed. Turning to the Templars she nodded. "You may begin." She left the room, smiling to herself as Grace's screams followed her down the corridor.

**xXx**

As darkness fell the Wardens moved swiftly through Denerim, taking up varying positions to enable them to watch the entire building.

Duncan was terrified by what could be happening to her within those walls, but storming the building was not an option and getting caught themselves would not help her. Duncan had never been particular devout but as he maintained his post he prayed as he never had before. _Maker I'm begging you please protect her. If a life must be taken than make it mine._

Through the night and the following day they scouted out the building and its surroundings. They watched the change of Templars, the entrances and those who came and went. They struck lucky with one of the servants who knew Danforth. With the exchange of a small amount of coin they had a layout of the building itself and a fair idea of where Grace was likely to have been imprisoned. As night drew in they had a plan.

**xXx**

Grace stared wide eyed at the platform that had been erected in the inner square. She realised she had been purposely put in this room so that she would see it. She was no fool; their idea of purification was to burn her at the stake. She couldn't move and terror was making her take gasping breaths that left her dizzy. Everything she had been through and it would end like this. Of all the ways she had thought of herself dying, this had not been one of them. Tears spilled down her cheeks as fear began to drown her. She imagined the heat of the flames, the pain as they reached her flesh. She began to sob, not caring who heard. She thought of Alistair; her father, her friends and gave an agonised wail, straining at the rope that bound her wrists behind her back. Despite what the Templars had done to her Grace did not want to die.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor and the two Templars entered the room. Grace tried to shift backwards away from them, but there was nowhere to go.

The taller one chuckled. "As much as we would like to have more fun with you." His eyes roamed her still naked body, chuckling as she flinched beneath his look. "Mother Lucia has something special for you."

Grace winced as they grabbed her and dragged her from the room. She whimpered in pain, her whole body protesting. Grace began to struggle when she realised where they were taking her; begging them to stop though she knew that would not work with these two, they had been deaf to her pleas thus far.

As she was tied to the wooden stake in the centre of the platform she wished she would faint; or die of fright, anything other than the death that was coming for her. Mother Lucia moved towards her, her hands raised as she prayed for her soul.

"Pray for your own soul." Grace hissed. "The Maker wouldn't give the gift of magic if he felt it was unworthy of him."

"You will be purified. You are being given the night to repent your sins. Tomorrow at dawn you will burn." They walked away, leaving the cool night to wrap around her.

**xXx**

Grace felt the rope at her wrists shift and she forced herself back to full consciousness, she had spent hours trying to loosen them and despite her terror had eventually dozed.

"Be still and quiet." A soft voice commanded.

The ropes fell from her wrists and Grace was bundled in a cloak, her skin icy from the chill of the night. She looked at the priest wondering what new torment she would have to face. The young woman helped her down from the platform; her long blond hair tucked behind her ears, her huge blue eyes constantly searching their surroundings. She led Grace out through a small gate which led to the sewer system.

"Not pleasant, but also not monitored."

Grace didn't care; for whatever reason this woman was leading her to freedom and she would have walked through the sewage itself if she had to, though she was very thankful that wasn't necessary. She shivered as the priest helped her into a robe and then draped the cloak once more over her shoulders. "They will know I've escaped."

"Wait here."

Grace watched the priest drag a body to the stake and then set fire to it.

As she hurried back she stared at Grace's wide eyes. "She was already dead, hung for stealing this morning. Please, we must leave."

Grace followed her numb with cold and fear. "Why are you doing this?"

The priest turned, pressing her to the wall as they reached the exit and a soldier passed on patrol, cupping her cheek gently. "You are a gift from the Maker, I would protect you with my last breath if it came to it."

Grace stared at her astonished. "I don't know who you think I am, but I'm no gift."

The young woman gave a soft laugh. "We are all gifts Grace, but my superiors seem to have forgotten we are here to educate and protect, not harm. Come." She took the young mages hand and swiftly led her out of Denerim.

**xXx**

The companions were making ready to head into the City freezing at the sound of hushed voices approaching their camp. Swords unsheathed they stared beyond the camp light to a Chantry Priest who was struggling to hold up a cloaked figure.

"Grace." Alistair cried out running the short distance between them, pulling her into his arms. "Maker Grace, sweetheart." He stared at the bruising on her face, swallowing with difficulty. "Maker what did they do to you?"

Grace was shaking with the relief of being in Alistair's arms and away from the Templars, safe from that death. She pressed against him not wanting him to know what had happened.

The priest was well aware of the hostile looks directed at her. "If I wished to harm her we would not be here." She reasoned gently.

"She saved me." Grace managed to whisper, pressing her face against Alistair's chest and swaying unsteadily. Alistair cradled her in his arms and carried her to the campfire.

Duncan glared at the Mother irrespective, glancing to Grace who was barely conscious. "What was done to her?"

The Mother lowered her eyes. "She went through the majority of what they decided to call a rite of purification. I believe Grace would be the best person to ask about what they did. It is not my place to speak of her experiences." The priest gazed at her tenderly. "I have ensured they will believe she is dead. I strongly suggest she change her appearance and you get her as far away from Denerim as possible."

"Why did you free her?" Zevran managed to speak at last, glancing into the woodland suspiciously.

"She is a gift from the Maker; that is all the reason I needed."

Duncan clasped her hand. "I thank you for your mercy."

"I must return to the Chantry before I am missed."

"Will you be safe?"

"Perfectly." She knelt beside Grace and gently cupped her cheek. "I hope we meet again under happier circumstances. May the Maker go with you and watch over you."

**xXx**

_Grace felt the rope biting into her wrists; the wood at her back, the kindling at her feet. She was surrounded by Templar's and Mother Lucia was walking forward torch in hand._

"_You will be purified. Blessed are those who stand before the Maker and repent their sins." _

_The flames licked the kindling and rushed towards her. _

Grace woke from the dream shuddering in terror. She was in Alistair's arms; clinging to him, her face white with shock.

Alistair held her gently, nuzzling her hair and kissing her forehead soothingly.

Duncan softly approached, he was aware of how brutal Templars could be and his imagination was tying his stomach into knots, particularly given those bruises and wounds they could see. "Grace, tell me what happened."

Grace shifted uncomfortably, knowing what he was asking but not in any way prepared to speak of it. "We got into some problems with a previous employer of Leliana as I'm sure she's already said and we were carted off to Fort Drakon."

Duncan crouched in front of her. "You know what I'm asking Grace. What happened with the Templar's?"

"Does it really matter I'm safe now."

Duncan gently took hold of her hand; his thumb moving over the bruising at her wrist, gently pushing back the material of the robe gazing at the bruising beneath. "It matters."

Grace shuddered, there were some things she would never tell. She glanced to her father and closed her eyes moistening her lips and sniffing back tears. "When I regained consciousness from Fort Drakon they had already dosed me with magebane so I couldn't use my magic. They forced me to drink more; it felt as though my insides were on fire." She shook her head slightly. "I've never been beaten that badly before."

Duncan glanced at her in alarm, but he didn't dare interrupt her.

"They … it's like a sport for them; seeing who can do the most damage, brutality and humiliation, the tools of cowards. The Mother stopped them eventually. They … they put me in a room where I could see them build the pyre. She said I had to be cleansed before returning to the Maker, that because the Rite of Tranquility was unsuccessful this was the alternative. I think I was screaming when they dragged me out there. They were going to burn me alive!" Grace shuddered, her voice trembling. "I just wanted to help in the battle, but I should have just run as far and as fast as I could." She broke down sobbing painfully. "I wish Flemeth had never brought me back."

Anders swallowed painfully; tears slipping down his cheeks, his hatred of the Chantry intensifying until it was almost choking him.

Leliana snuggled into Aedan's embrace, guilt and regret making her stomach churn.

Duncan pulled Grace gently into his arms, Alistair relinquishing her reluctantly. "It's over now sweetheart, you're safe now." He closed his eyes as she sobbed in his arms, he had never felt so helpless.

**xXx**

The camp was subdued; they had eaten almost in silence, everyone deep in dark thoughts. Fergus kept looking at Grace, guilt making his stomach churn. Nervously he stood up and approached her, Alistair giving him a reassuring smile. "I owe you my thanks my lady." Fergus knelt before her, talking her hand and pressing his lips gently to her bruised skin.

"I'm glad you're safe."

Fergus gently brushed her hair back revealing a dark bruise at her temple. He was aware Grace had refused healing from Anders until he had rested from his efforts with Leliana and himself. He suspected her hesitation was because she did not want her friend to know the full extent of the brutality she had experienced, but he had no intention of prying into such matters, it was certainly not his place. However making the Templars pay for their actions, that was something he intended to find a way to make happen. His eyes darkened in anger. "We will both have justice, I swear it."

"Let's seek your justice first." She said with a sad smile. "Mine might be a little harder to attain." She glanced to Alistair. "I suppose I will need to change my appearance again." In the end Grace used her magic to give herself chestnut hair and eyes a deep rich brown like her fathers.

"I'm never going to get used to this." Alistair grumbled.


	27. Plans & Promises

Duncan felt a sense of frustration, traipsing back and forth across the country was using time they did not have. However, given the events concerning the escape from Fort Drakon; he had no intention of finding out that Teyrn Fergus Cousland had fallen prey to bandits, so he had agreed to escort him to Redcliffe.

He glanced to Grace who was walking between Alistair and Anders. Zevran had taken to scouting ahead and Duncan was becoming convinced their assassin was looking for Templars to kill. Grace had been quiet since her rescue, nightmares haunted her and despite their best efforts she would not tell them exactly what had happened. Anders said little; but he had been horrified by the damage inflicted to her and Duncan was aware it was stirring painful memories for the healer.

The sun was dipping on the horizon and they needed a place to camp. As though reading his thoughts Zevran appeared leading them to a suitable site. Duncan ate his meal that night in thoughtful silence, mulling over a request made to him the night Grace was returned to them. It was something best completed when not on the road, which had also swayed him in favour of returning to Redcliffe. Despite the potential of disaster, he had come to the conclusion that the risk involved in the request was worth taking.

**xXx**

Teagan welcomed the Wardens back surprised at their relatively swift return. His eyes widened as he recognised the man next to Aedan. His face drained of colour, tears gleaming in his eyes as he moved down the steps grasping Fergus and pulling him into a firm embrace. "I thought you dead my friend." He gasped, shuddering painfully.

Fergus held his friend tightly. "You could not have known my friend."

"Where have you been? Why didn't you come to us sooner?"

"I would if I had been able Teagan, I have been imprisoned this last year."

Teagan paled and stepped back shaking his head. "Maker we are deceived in everything." Swallowing hard he gestured for them to enter. "Come these talks should not be done outside of these walls." He was been horrified to discover the extent of Fergus's mistreatment and devastated that he had not known of Fergus's plight. The two men had spoken long into the night before retiring for the evening.

The following day they resumed their discussion, this time also including Aedan, Duncan and Alistair. Fergus had been reluctant to speak to Alistair about his knowledge that Cailan himself had encouraged Howe in his attack on Highever, through fear that the Couslands would seize the throne. However, he did so when Teagan informed him that the Prince himself had been poisoned.

Alistair received the news with horror and a growing sense of disillusion, realising he truly did not know his brother.

That afternoon Teagan sent out various messengers to test the waters of potential support, as they intended to gather what proof they could and call a Landsmeet to confront the King.

**xXx**

Grace lay nestled next to Alistair, her fingers gently tracing the lines of his chest and stomach.

"Is this what life with you is going to be like?" He smiled as she looked up startled. "You risking your life while I am left to wonder if you are coming home."

Grace couldn't help the smile that lit her face. "You're planning a life with us being together?"

He caressed her jaw and kissed her, trying to pour all the love he had for her in that one touch. "Of course." He murmured between kisses.

"Maybe we should just assassinate Cailan and Anora and then you can be King."

Alistair sat up pulling her with him, his eyes searching hers. "Grace if I was King we could never be together."

Grace hushed him gently. "I was teasing."

"There has been so much danger, for both of us. I will not lose you."

Grace kissed him gently. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I will do whatever it takes so we can be together." He gazed at her surer than ever that he did not wish to be parted from her. The events of the past few months had been chaotic and they had been almost thrown together through such difficult times, but his feelings for her had only intensified. He knew it was soon; perhaps too soon but they were sharing a bed, and he wanted everyone but especially Grace herself to know that he was committed to her, he was not his brother and this was not a casual affair. His hand slipped into his tunic gripping the ring between his fingertips; he would not delay, should the worst happen tonight he wanted her to know that he had intended them to spend their lives together, that he was risking everything because he loved her too much to live his life without her. He gently cupped her cheek gazing deeply into her eyes. "Grace, I have never met anyone like you. I think you captured my heart the first day we met, though fool I was I thought you had cast a spell on me." He nuzzled her nose at her startled look. "I wish I could offer you more, but all I have is my heart. Will you marry me Grace?"

Her breath caught and she stared at him in astonishment. She knew he loved her, but she had never anticipated marriage. This was so soon, not to mention it was against the law.

Alistair had prepared himself for a sad 'no'; or an enthusiastic 'yes', but not the silence that was stretching between them. "I know we haven't known each other for that long." He said softly, forcing a smile. "But I do not need longer to know my own heart. I love you and want to spend my life with you. Would that be such a terrible thing?"

Grace gently clasped his hand pressing a soft kiss to his palm. "I love you Alistair, but we can't. You're a Prince and I'm a mage for Makers sake! Not just a mage but an apostate! An apostate the Chantry is trying very hard to kill."

"Let me worry about the practicalities." He slowly slid the ring onto her finger.

When she met his gaze all of the impossibilities melted away with the soft pressing of his lips to hers.

**xXx**

Dawn approached Grace woke; startled to find Alistair had still not returned to their bed. As darkness had fallen he had left; mumbling there was something he had to do and as blissfully happy as she was she had only kissed him and told him to hurry back, startled at the momentary pain in his eyes that had been banished by his cheeky grin. An uneasy feeling started to gnaw at her stomach; she forced herself to believe it was hunger and dressed assuming he would be in the hall for breakfast.

Grace sat next to Zevran and Leliana, who seemed reluctant to speak and wondered at their odd behaviour. Alistair was not in the great hall and nor for that matter were her father or Anders. She looked up startled as she felt the presence of a new Warden, the taint so easily distinguished now. She was a little disappointed that she had been unaware they had performed a Joining last night and wondered who it was. She sighed; one more person she would have to change the taint of, it was never a pleasant experience. Her eyes focused on the new Warden as he entered the room. Grace was aware the blood drained from her face and nausea rose in her throat. Alistair was flanked by Duncan and Anders, all three men's eyes locked on her. Grace was aware that all of the Wardens; Zevran and Leliana were shifting uncomfortably, obvious now that she had been the only one unaware of what had transpired last night. The beautiful ring he had given her was suddenly heavy in her hand. She wanted to scream at them; how could he risk his life without telling her, how could they let him. _He's only just got over one poison for Makers sake!_ However, she remained silent although her face registered her turmoil. With a deep breath she rose and walked to him; no longer able to look him in the face, her anger too evident in her eyes. She pressed the ring back into his hand, only her fury preventing tears from falling. "I wouldn't hold you to a promise made when you thought you might die." She managed to say evenly, though each word seemed to rip at her throat. Then she was moving passed him, barely registering the shocked look on his face. He was calling out her name and she ran. Her pain so intense she could barely breathe. She needed time, needed space. She ran out of the gate wishing in desperation that she could fly, the image of a hawk leaping into her mind. Grace felt her body ripple and startled she realised she had taken off. She crashed into the ground in astonishment, before hopping a few steps flapping her wings wildly.

**xXx**

Alistair stared down at the ring in his hand; his body icy, the joy of surviving the Joining now tasting like ashes.

Anders looked at the ring uncomfortably and gently gripped his shoulder. "Give her time. She's just in shock right now. She almost lost you once; you knew she would take this badly."

Alistair nodded glumly, suddenly leaning into Anders as the ache grew in his heart. The mage held him gently; he knew Grace well enough to know she would come around and he prayed it would be sooner rather than later.

The Wardens welcomed their new brother whole heartedly. That at least seemed to take the sadness from Alistair's eyes momentarily.

**xXx**

Grace had to concentrate overwhelmed by the new sensations and experiences. She was battered by what felt like fierce winds, flapping her wings feebly having no idea what she was doing. She hit the ground several times before she finally caught on and was able to use the air currents to her advantage. The distraction gave her time to calm, to think rationally. Grace glided to a wooded area, feeling a stirring of panic having no idea how she had transformed in the first place. She landed clumsily and thought about being human again, grateful when she changed back. It was the oddest sensation; to feel her body expand, wings becoming arms once more, feathers becoming skin. Grace slipped over to the small stream and gazed at her reflection relieved she appeared to be herself once more. She sat with her back to a large oak tree, leaning into its strength and vitality. She regretted leaving; regretted handing him back the ring and wished she could just rewind the last hour and instead run into his arms and kiss him, but she couldn't change the past and a bitter taste swelled in her mouth. _He became a Warden so we could be together; I know that's why he did it. I should have realised last night what he meant. He risked his life so we could be together and I've just thrown it back in his face._

Rising to her feet; she walked through the forest, suddenly aware that bird song had stopped and the atmosphere was oppressive. Creeping forward now she clapped her hands to her mouth to stop her cry of alarm. Darkspawn filled the clearing, their taint having corrupted the ground they stood upon. There were so many and she watched as they moved forward and knew without any doubt they were heading to Redcliffe. She became a hawk once more; muttering oaths in her head at her clumsy take off, her heart beating painfully as arrows pierced the dirt only inches from where she had been. She felt a sharp stinging sensation at her leg and flew higher her wings flapping frantically trying to put distance between them.

As Redcliffe came into sight Grace cried out in relief, making another terrible landing. She changed and limped to the gates yelling at the guards to prepare.

The Wardens hurried to the walls hearing the commotion and stared in horror at the mass of creatures surging towards the castle.

Breathing heavily Grace leaned against the stone wall as the gates were closed and barred. She was aware of blood trickling down her leg from a small wound on her thigh and impatiently she ripped a small piece from the underskirt of her robe and bound it tightly, limping up to the battlements. Her eyes searched for Alistair and she gave him an apologetic glance as their eyes met.

**xXx**

For the best part of the next hour; arrows, fire, ice and rock rained down on the Darkspawn attempting to gain access to Redcliffe.

Grace realised how terrifyingly close she was to just giving herself over to the power that surged through her body, just as she had in her fight with Flemeth. That much power had terrified her and she had promised herself she would never unleash it until she had explored it and understood it, so she forced herself to remain in control, teetering on the edge of a magic she didn't dare manifest. Her leg was throbbing painfully and more than once she thought to call to Anders; but he was focused on healing those who had fallen and they were in more need than she. Her own attempts for some reason had proven ineffectual. Finally the last Darkspawn lay dead and Grace felt the energy ebb away, leaving her feeling empty and suddenly very cold. She watched in surprise as the ground rose up to meet her and groaned as her body impacted against the stone. She heard Alistair and his voice soothed her, his arms around her bringing warmth to her icy skin. She closed her eyes knowing he would keep her safe.

**xXx**

Darkness fell and still Grace lay unconscious, the taint working through her body from its point of entry at her leg. There was nothing they could do, but watch as the fever burned within her as her body was infected.

Duncan laid a trembling hand on her forehead. They had used what little Joining potion they had with Alistair and they would never obtain the ingredients needed to make another potion in time to help her, if it even would. "I've witnessed the impossible from you Grace." He murmured his words as shaky as his hand. "I've seen you come back from being tranquil; change the taint within us, fight back poison and destroy demons. Don't you dare let this beat you. Not now, not after everything. Not when I just have you back." Her pale face showed no sign that she had heard him. "Damn it Grace." He begged. "You fight this, do you hear me? Please Grace, please." Danforth gripped his shoulder as Duncan broke down and wept.

**xXx**

_Grace sat at the river bank allowing her feet to dangle in the cool water, watching curiously as fish swam beneath her. She wriggled her toes, splashing the water a little scattering them. The sky was a soft pink, turning a faint gold as the sun began its ascent. Smiling contentedly she soaked up the warmth of the sun, still wriggling her toes in the water as her fingers whispered over the grass, enjoying its tickling sensation._

"_You need to go back you know." _

_She glanced up, shading her eyes from the bright sunlight. Golden eyes glinted at her. Grace patted the grass and Flemeth, still in Morrigan's youthfully body sat next to her, allowing her own feet to slip into the water. "I didn't expect to see you here." _

_Flemeth looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "Who did you expect?"_

_Grace shrugged, flicking the water with her toes. The two sat in companionable silence as time stretched on. "Why has everything been so different?" _

_Flemeth's laugh was beautiful, surprising Grace by its rich tone. "Where would the adventure be if you truly knew what was around the corner? That would not have prepared you for what is to come." _

_Grace had to admit the wisdom of her words. "I would have liked to have known Morrigan." Her tone was wistful. _

_Flemeth patted her hand gently, as a mother would a child. "Such things are best not dwelt upon. You have your own destiny to meet." _

_Grace sighed and nodded in resignation. "A destiny you will not even give me a hint of."_

_Flemeth chuckled. "I told you to save a King, was that not hint enough?"_

_Grace narrowed her eyes. "They are a bunch of scheming snakes, why did you want me to save Cailan?"_

"_Who said anything about Cailan?"_

_Grace's eyes widened. "Cailan is the King, you said save the King!"_

"_I said save a King."_

_Grace forced herself to stay calm praying Flemeth was not alluding to Alistair; if she was they would never be together. "Which King?" _

_Flemeth smirked. "You will see."_

_Grace almost snarled in her frustration and instead concentrated on more pressing matters. "If the taint is a part of me, why is it killing me?"_

"_The taint of your heritage is different to the taint that has invaded you. Both are at war with each other. They cannot exist in the same place. That is why I ensured Duncan would not attempt the Joining with you. You are stronger now; you know the power at your disposal. This is a battle you can win, but only if you return now."Flemeth cupped her jaw staring deeply into her eyes. "I did not go through so much to bring you into this world to have you die now. You will resist the taint do you understand?"_

_Grace swallowed hard and nodded as the landscape around her faded._

Grace opened her eyes as she convulsed; the taint ripping at her body, her own will burning into it refusing to be turned. She squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her fists as alternating waves of fire and ice surged through her body. As she lay still the heat would build, a furnace in her core and each movement brought a ripple of ice that left her limbs shaking and her teeth chattering. Sweat soaked her robes and she struggled against the clinging material. A cool cloth was pressed to her forehead and others to her burning arms. She whimpered at the touch, the material seeming harsh on her sensitised skin. She felt the black sludge move through her system and terror filled her, she didn't have the strength to fight this. Her eyes flared open and she grasped hold of Anders robe. "Lyrium." Her voice was a barely whispered rasp; but Anders was on his feet rushing from the room, moments later returning with the strongest lyrium potion he had. He carefully uncorked the bottle and raised her head, tipping the bottle to her lips.

Grace shivered as the liquid burst against her tongue, whispering its silky existence into the cells of her body. Her neck arched back; her fingers clawing the blankets around her, teeth gritted in pain and she felt her body fragment. Streams of energy swirled around her in swiftly changing colours that seemed to flow back into her as quickly as they moved out. Light and dark waging a war within the very make up of her existence. The experience seemed an eternity for Grace, though for those who watched it was barely minutes. The energy faded and she lay still, the darkness etched on her skin by the taint fading and a soft flush of life bringing colour to her cheeks.

Duncan sank to his knees beside her, taking her hand into his own. "Thank the Maker." He gasped.

**xXx**

"I can't take much more of this." Anders whispered; leaning against the wall watching as Alistair gently soothed Grace's hot brow with a tepid cloth, his heart pounding painfully.

Alistair glanced to Anders and felt a tug of compassion. The mage's hair was loose from its usual tie and hung about his pale face, his hands shaking. He put down the cloth and pressed a kiss to Grace's cheek before moving towards him.

Anders felt the heat of Alistair's body as he joined him, sitting with his back to the wall and found himself leaning against him seeking warmth. He felt Alistair's muscled arm against his own and felt his stomach tighten. Flushing he pulled back, surprised when Alistair drew him back

"Where's Zevran?"

Anders bit his lip. He had always found the Prince handsome; had even indulged in some brief fantasy's, but sitting as close as he was to Alistair he suddenly wanted nothing other than to sink into his lips. _Maker what is wrong with me!_ "He's with Leliana. She felt so guilty about Grace being captured and then keeping your Joining from her, she has somehow decided Grace getting infected by the taint is her fault."

"No." Alistair whispered sadly. "The fault for that is mine to bear."

Anders glanced at the tormented man, his heart aching. "Alistair this is no-one's fault. It just happened. Trust me, she won't blame you and she wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

"I just want to be with her. Becoming a Warden was the only way."

Anders gazed at him seeing the utter devotion in his eyes. "She's lucky to have you." Anders whispered.

Alistair grunted dismissively. "Another woman is having my child and I took the Joining without telling her. I will be lucky if she ever speaks to me again." Alistair looked at Anders startled as the mage caught hold of his jaw coaxing him to face him.

"She loves you Alistair don't ever doubt that."

Alistair lowered his eyes. "I think she loves you too."

Anders felt his heart pound fiercely. "Alistair …"

"Anders I know you have feelings for each other and I accept that. I watched you both remember; your attraction to each other was obvious. Maker I wanted to punch you when she came back from the Rite; she clung to you so tightly, I thought I would never have a chance with her." He glanced at Anders who was staring at him. "You are a mage, you will understand Grace in ways I probably never will, but I love her Anders. I was so alone and then I met her. She saw _me_; not the Prince, do you have any idea how rare that is Anders, to be seen for who you truly are, not who society has dictated you are."

Anders gave a sad smile. "Alistair I'm a mage, of course I know how rare that is."

Alistair flushed and sighed. "I was always taught to fear mages, but it never sat well with me. Of course I still never imagined I would be engaged to a mage."

Anders cupped his jaw searching his eyes. "You are engaged to a woman Alistair."

Alistair grinned. "I happen to be aware of that Anders."

Raising an eyebrow Anders smiled. "Good. You're a Warden now Alistair, no matter what you will never be alone." He pressed a chaste kiss to Alistair's lips chuckling at his surprised look. "I can restrain myself sometimes you know."

Alistair swallowed with difficulty, the sweet taste of Anders lips disturbingly lingering. "I am truly sorry about Cullen." He whispered.

Anders nodded, his eyes filled with sadness. "He will always be part of my heart; I'm just learning how to survive without him."

Alistair shifted slightly uncomfortably aware of how warm he was becoming under Anders gaze. "And Zevran is helping you survive?"

"I think we are helping each other. And yes you are right I do love Grace, she's my best friend and I would risk the wrath of the Maker himself just to see her smile, but she loves you Alistair, she is with _you_, so don't mess it up."

Alistair relaxed and smiled. "As you command, ser mage."

Anders burst out laughing, both men turning startled as Grace cleared her throat.

"Someone want to tell me the joke?" She grinned as Anders darted across the room dragging Alistair with him and practically leapt onto the bed to hug her.

"Maker you scared me!" He gasped.

"Relax Anders I'm a Witch of the Wilds remember. A little taint isn't going to kill me."

Anders scowled slightly. "Don't even joke!" He glanced to Alistair who was standing awkwardly and leaned to Grace's ear. "Give the guy a break Grace, he loves you." He kissed her cheek and backed off the bed. He winked to Alistair and headed to the door. "Play nice children!" He demanded as he closed the door behind him.

Alistair let out a deep breath and sank onto the edge of the bed taking Grace's hand. "I am so sorry." He raised an eyebrow as she pressed a finger to his lips.

"I should never have stormed out like that it was foolish. You risked your life for us to have a future and I threw it back in your face. If I could take it back I would, but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Alistair felt the smile widen across his face, his heart feeling as though it would burst. "I should have told you, I was afraid you would say no."

Grace smiled at him helplessly. "I would have. I almost lost you once Alistair, that was enough for any lifetime."

Alistair sighed and pressed a kiss to her hand. "Can you forgive me?"

Grace leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to his lips. "I forgive you with my whole heart and if you will have me I would love to be your wife."

Alistair pulled the ring from his tunic pocket and carefully slipped it back onto her finger. There were no words for his relief or intense joy and so he kissed her, showing her through his touch how much he loved her.

**xXx**

Grace recovered quickly; though she was aware that something had changed within her, though she could not quite put her finger on it. They were due to leave, but Aedan had been unable to find Leliana. Grace shocked everyone by taking to the air as a hawk and set off to find the elusive bard.

"Someone want to tell me when she learnt how to do that?" Anders grumbled, admitting he was a little envious.

Grace had an idea Leliana would be on the roof, but still had to circle twice before finding her. She landed on the ledge next to her and transformed nearly scaring the bard to death. "What's up Lel?"

When Leliana could finally speak again she shook her head, her eyes bloodshot with spent tears. "You keep getting hurt because of me."

"Lel; it was my idea to go after Marjolaine and it was my temper that led to me getting tainted, no one else is responsible for that."

Leliana looked at her startled as Grace hugged her tenderly. "You really don't blame me at all do you?"

"Of course not! Come on, Aedan is worried." They walked carefully along the roof and Grace followed Leliana's nimble progress to the courtyard below in a rather less graceful manner.

"When did you learn to become a bird?" Leliana asked as they wandered out to meet the others.

"It just happened. It's more difficult than you would think to fly I crashed a few times. I think it might be very handy though." She grinned and pushed her gently in Aedan's direction, putting her arm through Alistair's and gripping Anders while Zevran chatted to Duncan. "My two favourite men." She said happily, surprised when they both flushed.

"I should make sure Zevran has everything." Anders mumbled, squeezing her arm gently before heading in Zevran's direction.

Grace glanced to Alistair. "So, Orzammar next. I wonder what trouble we will find there."

Alistair shook his head. "The Maker has to give us a break at some point." He stated hopefully.

"Isn't he absent?" Grace teased.

Alistair nudged her. "The amount of trouble you get into I am allowed to hope he is watching over us."

They headed out having no idea what awaited them in the deep dark.


	28. Children of Stone

As the companions approached the final stretch of the Frostback Mountain pathway before reaching Orzammar the snow began. A few flakes at first, but as midday approached they found themselves caught in a snow storm. Visibility was a few feet at most so walking was treacherous.

They had pulled out furs and Grace felt snug in her cloak and forged on ahead; the only one not grumbling about the weather, she loved the snow. However, even she had to admit their progress was painstakingly slow. She manifested an energy field around them; the snowflakes bouncing off it, falling to the ground at either side of them. She stretched out the field in front so that they could at least see where they were going and sent a ripple of heat backwards.

Alistair smiled warmly. "_You_ are a handy woman to know."

She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I know." With a mischievous grin she darted ahead; leaving them to walk the energy tunnel she had created, while she danced in the snow, twirling as the snowflakes surrounded her, tossed and teased by an icy wind.

Anders chuckled softly. "Someone's enjoying themselves."

Alistair sighed as she rounded the bend. "I wish she would not go out of sight."

Gavarth nudged him. "She'd yell if there was trouble." He grinned at Alistair's raised eyebrow. "Hey Grace!" He roared. "What about a bit more heat back here?" His eyes widened as a fireball shot passed him. "Hey!"

"That wasn't me." Grace yelled back. "I triggered an ambush. Sorry!"

A series of expletives left Alistair's mouth that left even Gavarth stunned.

Grace was behind a column of stone that rose into an archway over the path. She created a fireball and ducked down throwing it at the nearest of their attackers, as the others joined her splitting into two groups on either side of the path.

"You're a bloody trouble magnet." Gavarth grinned, pulling out his axe.

Grace chuckled. "There's a warrior on the left in the treeline; thinks he's hidden, he has a very nice double headed axe and you could do with a new one."

Gavarth squinted and caught the gleam of metal, chuckling softly. "I like your thinking."

Duncan cleared his throat catching their attention. "Perhaps we can sort out the spoils once they are dead. Grace can you flush them out and get them to back up?"

Grace nodded and threw out a lightning storm just ahead of them, the sharp crackle and hiss of the lightning as it hit off the path echoing through the mountains. Combined with the snow storm already in full force it was enough to make their attackers back off and regroup. Three mages and a handful of warriors can into view.

Duncan growled softly. "Anders, Grace see if you can debilitate the mages."

Anders cast a paralysis glyph; nodding to Grace, who channelled her energy into his, Anders spell split off hitting all three mages. "It worked." He grinned in delight. "Damn we make a good team."

Grace grinned, the others racing passed them driving into the warriors who were struggling towards them, the wind not in their favour.

Anders sent a fireball into the chest of the warrior heading for Zevran.

Zevran finished him quickly, darting ahead managing to slit the throats of two of the mages before the spell ended. He ducked an ice spell and rolled behind a formation of rocks narrowly avoiding a fireball.

Grace threw out a lightning bolt towards the mage, startled when it hit off a shield and came hurtling back towards her. "Shit!" She hit the ground, the bolt driving into the stone archway. Glancing up Grace saw the ground shimmer beneath Alistair, his movements stilling. The warrior she had noticed with the axe was heading straight for him.

"I'll gut his Highness." He stated with a menacing laugh, swinging his axe for the killing blow.

Grace felt the world slow the mercenary's movements almost stopping as she closed the distance between them. Anders had tried to show her how to do a haste spell, but it had never seemed to click. Now however it seemed the most natural thing to do. She surrounded herself in rock armour and propelled herself into the warrior sending them both perilously close to the cliff edge. The axe skidded across the ground, the mercenary gripping onto anything to stop himself but the momentum was too great and he hit the edge finding himself falling letting out a terrible scream. Grace found herself hanging over the edge of the cliff with Danforth gripping her foot.

"Lose the armour Grace!" He grunted with exertion. The rock vanished and Danforth pulled her effortlessly back onto solid ground.

"Thanks." She gasped.

Alistair drove his sword through the final mercenary before pulling her into his arms. "Are you okay?"

Grace grinned. "I'm better than okay. I finally figured out how to do the haste spell."

Alistair simply looked at her. "You do realise you almost went over the cliff?"

"Well yes, but I can do the haste spell!" She exclaimed with glee.

"We need to discuss your priorities." He muttered

Anders skidded to a halt next to them. "That was awesome, I was wondering if you were ever going to figure out how to do it with your crazy magic."

Alistair glanced to Duncan. "Are all mages this insane?" He ignored the startled looks from Grace and Anders.

Duncan shook his head. "No; just these two."

Anders nudged Alistair. "What's the problem? Not that I would have wanted Grace to go over the cliff, but she could have flown back up."

"And if something had prevented the change?"

Grace winced and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I'll be more careful, promise."

"I would appreciate it." Alistair muttered.

"I was defending you!" She purred pressing her lips to his in a quick kiss.

Alistair stepped back with a smile and bowed low. "And I am most grateful my Lady." Grinning broadly at her flushed cheeks.

"This one still breathes." Maverin hissed, dragging the unfortunate mercenary towards the others. The young man could barely be eighteen and was glaring at them fiercely.

"Not the easy pickings you thought eh." Gavarth snarled.

The young man had focused on Alistair. "We were not expecting an easy fight. Even the Prince alone would give most men pause let alone when he is travelling with Wardens."

"Yet you bring so few." Maverin murmured glancing around them wondering if the storm was shielding others from their view.

"Leris was a cocky son of a bitch, besides the less of us there are the more money there is for each of us." He gave Alistair a cocky grin. "Someone wants you dead badly your Highness. I'd watch my back if I were you."

Alistair moved away slightly Grace moving to his side. "Alistair?"

"This is my life now, evading my brother's thugs." He stared grief stricken into the storm not wanting the others to see his pain.

"We'll stop them Alistair, whatever it takes I promise you we will stop them."

Alistair glanced to Grace and smiled, her determined look was enough to give him hope.

Zevran dealt with the mercenary, no-one wanting him running back to advise his employer that Alistair still lived. They would figure it out in time.

Gavarth lifted up the axe; it fitted perfectly in his hand, its weight feeling as though it had been made for him. It was Dwarven made and beautiful. The mercenary's bodies gifted them with coin, and some weapons and trinkets they could sell once at Orzammar. Grace gazed longingly at the staffs but had declined to carry one out of fear of being stopped by the Chantry no matter how disguised it was and her mind had not changed. She retrieved all three and moved over to Anders. "Anders what do you think of these?"

"These two are standard staffs; but this one, this is a real beauty." The staff was dark wood with a crimson orb at the end of the staff and a blade at the opposite tip. Anders gave it a practice swing feeling the hum of magic, the orb glowing faintly. "This is probably worth several gold coins at least."

Grace glanced at him in surprise. "I thought you would keep it, I didn't realise you were so attached to your other staff."

"I'm not, it's just … we probably need the money more." Anders jumped as Duncan's hand rested on his shoulder.

"About time you got yourself a decent staff." He muttered. "Come on, I want to get there before nightfall." Duncan winked at Grace as he passed, grinning at her look of delight.

Anders twirled the staff again before following after them, a happy smile on his face.

**xXx**

Orzammar was impressive to say the least. The Wardens had been admitted with the utmost respect and shown directly to the palace. Grace was surprised to see Prince Trian on the throne, to his left sat the Princess Dumora and to his right Prince Bhelen. King Endrin had passed to the stone not three weeks ago; peacefully in his sleep, unusual for a dwarven King.

"Your Majesty." Duncan knelt before the new King, bowing his head.

"You are most welcome Duncan, my father spoke highly of you. I will have quarters prepared."

"You are most kind your Majesty. However, we are here on a matter of great urgency regarding support with the Blight that is affecting the surface as we speak."

Trian's eyes darkened slightly. "We battle the Darkspawn on a daily basis, but the surface gets a sniff of the Spawn and come running to us."

"Your aid is necessary."

Trian raised his hand. "I am aware of the treaty Duncan. Forgive me; my exasperation at the surface is not aimed at the Wardens. Come, you will be shown to your rooms and when you are refreshed we shall eat and talk."

Duncan nodded and they allowed themselves to be led to their chambers.

**xXx**

Grace gave a deep sigh as she sank into the bath, the warm water flowing around her. She decided that apart from the politics and the Deep Roads and the Darkspawn, Orzammar had some definite benefits. The scent of vanilla and honey surrounded her as she sank into the fragrant bubbles. She glanced at her arm and the long silver scar that ran its length and sighed. Despite their unusual beginnings she had come to value Cullen's friendship and she had never forgiven herself for his death. She thought about all of the danger she had faced since and wondered if she was somehow attracting it to herself as penance. The thought chilled her a little.

"Room for one more?"

She glanced up and smiled at Alistair as he leaned against the door frame, a cheeky grin on his face. "Always." She watched as he discarded his clothes and moved down the bath as he stepped in behind her.

He gave a contented sigh and settled into the water, grinning as Grace leaned back against his chest. His lips kissed a trail across her shoulders and neck; his hands gently drifting across her stomach, whispering soft words of love that left her trembling.

She turned her head slightly and brushed her lips against his. "I love you too." She gave him an adorning smile. "Can I ask you something?"

"You may ask me anything you wish."

"What was it like to grow up as a Prince?" Grace felt him tense, becoming alarmed at the distress on his handsome face. "Alistair?"

"It was not the life you might expect. Cailan's mother died when he was very young and my father consoled himself with another woman, my mother. He never told me anything about her and refused to answer my questions." Alistair gave a trembling sigh, forcing himself to hold tight to his pain. He felt soft fingers interlacing with his and he smiled as he sank into golden eyes, her fiery hair gleaming. "I wish you could look like this always." He whispered, his fingers drifting through the silky strands that were just short of resting on her shoulders. He was overcome with the need to continue, to unburden himself of the pain he had carried most of his life. "I think I was a daily torment for my father, a constant reminder of the woman he could no longer have."

Grace felt his chest struggle and as she glanced up a tear fell onto her cheek. She stayed still, his look far away in his memories.

"It always surprised me he kept me with him. He struggled to even speak to me some days. He would look at me with this cold stare as though it was my fault he was without her." Alistair sighed deeply. "Perhaps it was; she clearly did not want me any more than he did."

"Perhaps there were other reasons." Grace suggested hesitantly.

Alistair glanced to her and cupped her cheek. "Perhaps." He shook his head. "I will never know. I was the bastard Prince to the other nobles and not worth consideration. I only grew closer to Cailan as we grew older. Before that I was simply someone who was taking the attention from him. I thought he had gotten over his old feelings about me; it seems I was greatly mistaken. The only person I could rely on was Loghain. I am so naïve; but you saw through him right away, you didn't trust him from the beginning. I never understood why."

Grace wrapped her arms around his neck; pulling him close, as he could no longer hold onto the emotions he had been struggling with, since his recovery and he wept. "I'm so sorry Alistair."

He clung to her, his shining light in a dark world. "I have been alone for so long. Having to put on an act, pretending to be someone other than who I am. Then you came into my life and there was no need for pretence. I found a purpose, I found my place and it is with you and the Warden's." Grace gave him that smile that made him feel like he was the only person in the world. He pulled her against him; lips melding, fingers caressing silky skin, their soft moans captured by desire laden kisses as they made love.

Grace lay her head on his shoulder trembling; his arms holding her tight as their breathing slowed, their heart beats returning to normal. He deserved the truth. Grace pulled back slightly so their eyes met, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip. "I need to tell you something, something that Flemeth told me when I went back to the Wilds."

Alistair gave her an encouraging smile. "You can tell me anything."

Grace lowered her eyes, searching for the right words. "I love you Alistair and I don't want to lose you."

He caught her lips in a tender kiss. "Whatever happened and whatever she said will not change how I feel about you, I swear it."

Grace nodded and struggled to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.

"When you two are quite finished messing about Duncan has called us to a meeting."

Grace glanced up startled to see Anders standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame as Alistair had.

Zevran appeared behind him, flashing his most charming smile. "My dear Anders subtly is not your best quality."

"Hah, says the man with the subtly of a brick."

"Ah yes, but I am charming with it."

"Have neither of you heard of knocking." Grace said crossly, Alistair's cheeks burning.

Anders smirked. "We did. You were obviously too busy to hear."

Grace growled and turned her back on the two men, rising to her feet despite Alistair's protests and stepped out of the bath grabbing a towel.

"That is a magnificent tattoo my dear Grace, why have you not shared it before?"

Grace tucked the towel around her and turned, surprising him with a flirtatious grin. "Have you ever shown me all of your tattoos Zevran Arainai?"

"You have me there, perhaps one evening I could introduce you."

Alistair promptly threw a towel at him growling at them both to get out. Anders and Zevran retreated chuckling to themselves. Alistair caught Grace's hand and pulled her back to him.

"What were you going to say?"

She shook her head, the moment having passed. "Later, I promise."

**xXx**

Alistair and Grace were the last to arrive in the hall and Duncan raised his eyebrow at their wet hair. She smiled and sat down resisting the temptation to kick Anders as he smirked at her.

"You will all be pleased to know that King Trian has agreed to send troops to the surface."

"That was easy." Gavarth mumbled.

"Maybe the Maker has decided to cut us a break." Aedan muttered.

"About time." Duncan agreed. "I had wanted to leave for Redcliffe immediately." He raised his hands at the groans of his Wardens. "However, we could all do with a good night's rest."

**xXx**

King Trian generously supplied both food and ale in the great hall and the Wardens and companions joined the Royal household for a well-deserved meal.

Grace felt her eyes drawn to Princess Dumora and was surprised to see Oghren at her side. They were speaking quietly then she turned from him returning to sit near her brother, his eyes following her. She watched as the dwarf sat down on a bench separated from the rest, his face crestfallen. A hand wrapped around her wrist and Grace turned startled to see Gavarth looking at her sternly.

"Don't get involved with him Kitten. He's dangerous, bad tempered and trouble follows him."

Grace grinned broadly. "We should get on well then." They noticed two armoured dwarfs making a beeline for him and Grace's eyes narrowed.

"Don't get involved Kitten." Gavarth warned, releasing her arm.

Grace watched as there was some kind of confrontation and then they walked away. Despite Gavarth's warning Grace was desperate to meet Oghren. Grabbing two tankards, she weaved her way across the room and set the ale down in front of him. Oghren looked up angrily, but whatever he was going to say died on his lips. Grace sat down and took a sip.

"That's not how you drink ale." He boomed; downing the tankard in one go, slamming it back down onto the table, running his sleeve across his beard. He nodded to her to do the same.

Grace glanced at the full tankard. _What the hell. What's the worst that could happen? _She grasped the tankard in two hands and downed the liquid; slamming the tankard back down.

Oghren smiled broadly and grabbed them another set of drinks. He nodded for her to drink and clearing her throat she gripped the tankard and drank the contents, though Oghren was finished long before her.

Grace felt a wave of heat move through her and rolled back her shoulders, feeling her body relax. By the time she had finished the contents of the third tankard Grace was aware she probably couldn't stand, but she didn't really care. "Sooo Oghren, tell me about yourself."

"I'm Princess Dumora's Second, not much to tell beyond that."

"Rubbish, you weren't always her Second, what did you do before that?"

Oghren shifted uncomfortably in his seat wondering why he was even engaging in conversation with this strange human. "I was married." He growled.

"Wow, you don't sound too happy about it." She joined him as he downed another tankard.

"If you must know she left me. Went into the sodding deep roads with our whole house. I never heard from her again."

Grace gazed at him with compassion. "I'm sorry."

Oghren shrugged, uncomfortable with suddenly wanting to talk to this woman. "Nug humpers." He growled.

"Interesting phrase."

He looked up startled watching her trying to suppress her amusement. Oghren relaxed and laughed, which of course gave Grace free reign to burst into a glorious peel of giggles that left her breathless. "Nice talking to ya." He said getting to his feet.

"Hey, where you going?"

"I have a loud mouthed nug to deal with."

"You're going to fight someone, after drinking all of that?"

"Sodding anvil-dropping trolls, I could beat them with triple that amount."

"Them!" She scowled. "You mean the two who were talking to you earlier?" Oghren nodded, amused by her apparent concern. She got to her feet surprising herself that she managed to stay standing up. "Right, let's go."

"Em, what?"

"I'll be _your_ Second. Let's go beat up some; some, whatever it was you said."

Oghren wasn't sure what to do. "You're in no state."

Grace turned to him; her eyes flashing with anger, a flicker of flame lighting her hand. "Don't underestimate me Oghren."

The dwarf raised an eyebrow and shrugged, no one noticed as they slipped out.

**xXx**

Grace stared down at the two badly beaten dwarfs and glanced at Oghren. "That was easy."

The dwarf laughed a deep rich sound that made her smile. "Told you."

Grace grinned as they walked back towards the palace. "Um Oghren."

"Uhuh." He was eyeing the approaching group of dwarfs with the same suspicion she was.

"Are they nug humpers too?"

He grinned wildly. "You got it."

"Oh, good." The fight was only marginally longer than the last with the same result, six dwarfs laid out cold on the stone.

"By the Paragan's you've got some berserker rage in you. Let's get another drink." Oghren said gripping her arm and guiding her to the palace.

Grace paused at the door, glancing down at herself noticing the blood. "I better get changed; I'll only get chewed if the others see me like this."

Oghren laughed; but nodded and watched as she weaved down the corridor, disappearing into a room. As soon as he entered the hall he was accosted by two very anxious humans, and an elf whose look made even him consider his words.

"The women you were with." Alistair was saying sharply. "Where is she?"

"Getting changed." Oghren stated pointing in the direction she had gone.

"Why would she need to change?" Anders asked suspiciously.

"She said you lot would chew her out about the blood." He moved passed them, grabbing a tankard and sitting himself back down on the seat he had occupied earlier.

"Maker's sake what's she done now!" Alistair groaned; hurrying towards their room, Anders and Zevran following.

**xXx**

Grace stared at herself in the mirror, realising that a change of clothes really wasn't going to cut it. Blood streaked her hair and she had a graze on her face where she had tripped over her own feet, falling hard against one of her attackers who had knocked himself out with the huge mallet he had been welding at the time. Stripping she ran herself another hot bath and sank into the warm water. She was just relaxing when the door slammed open and she heard people enter the room.

Alistair froze in the doorway to see his fiancé peering over the bath a fireball spitting and fizzing in her hand.

"Hi." She purred.

Alistair couldn't help smiling at the grin on her face.

She extinguished the flame and gave him what she hoped was a sultry look.

His jaw hit the floor as she stepped out of the bath walking over to him. She gently tugged at his lower lip as her fingers beginning to loosen his breeches.

Alistair sank into her kiss only vaguely aware Anders and Zevran were still in the room. "Grace … um … we … oh Maker … sweetheart we are not alone." He managed to mumble into the kiss.

Grace peered over his shoulder to see Anders and Zevran flushed and not sure where to look. "Oh." She whispered, a smile curling her lips.


	29. Secrets of Stone

Grace woke up the following morning snuggled into Alistair wondering when they had come to bed. She sighed contentedly, loving the feel of his skin against hers. Her breath caught as an arm that was most definitely not attached to Alistair curled around her waist and hot breath whispered on her neck. Grace turned slowly and carefully, freezing as she realised a very naked Anders was lying next to her. Her heart began to thud as her mind frantically tried to recall the events of the previous night. The bed shifted and Grace couldn't help the whimper that left her throat as Zevran's arm pulled his lover closer to him, nuzzling Anders neck in his sleep. She remembered drinking with Oghren and getting into a fight and then coming back to the room and taking a bath. _Oh come on, if I did this I sure as hell want to remember it!_ She remembered kissing Alistair and looking at Anders and Zevran. Her cheeks turned scarlet as her memories flooded back. _Oh Maker!_ She had without a doubt initiated their passionate escapade.

A loud knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts and she leapt off the bed; dragging a cover with her, shushing the groans that followed her. Wrapping the cover around her she opened the door slightly almost fainting at the sight of her father, arms crossed and scowling.

"Ah, sorry to disturb you."

Grace flushed. "It's okay." She mumbled. "What's wrong?"

"King Trian got himself assassinated last night." It was a huge blow and Duncan was furious having no time or patience for dwarven politics.

Grace stared in shock, her own situation momentarily forgotten. "How?"

"Poison and those bloody officials have it in their minds that our assassin is responsible. Not to mention the fact that our promise of troops is now void."

Grace paled. "Zevran would never do that. More to the point how do they know he is an assassin?"

"Seems our former Crow has something of a reputation! That doesn't matter, what does matter is that I can't bloody find him. He disappeared with Anders late last night and no one has seen them since. Do you have any idea where he might be?"

Grace wanted to curl up and die her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I can vouch for him; Zevran was nowhere near King Trian last night."

Duncan folded his arms. "And how do you know that?"

"I just know."

"I think the Assembly are going to need a little more than that." He took in her scarlet cheeks; the blanket wrapped around her and felt his gut start to squirm. "Where is he Grace?"

Grace swallowed hard having no idea how he was going to react, but she couldn't imagine it was going to be well. "Just stay calm."

"Grace!" The tone was already laced with the beginnings of anger.

Grace glanced behind her to see Alistair and Anders frantically throwing on their clothes. Zevran was calmly dressing a look of amusement on his face. It would have been funny if it wasn't her father at the door.

Grace opened the door having no idea what to say. Duncan took one look at the clothes that still scattered the floor, the disarray of the bed and the embarrassed faces of his two Wardens. He glanced to Zevran who was regarding him calmly. Duncan was just getting used to Grace being his daughter and he had no idea how to cope with this situation. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it, before he opted for anger.

"Did you find them?" Leliana asked; freezing in the doorway, her look of glee fading in the wake of Duncan's fury.

"Get dressed." Duncan snarled. "_You _can explain his whereabouts to the Assembly." He stormed out, Leliana darting out of his way.

Leliana gave her friend a supportive smile and moved after Duncan trying to soothe him.

Grace slammed the door shut, resting her head against the wood and taking a deep breath. She jumped as Alistair's arms curled around her and pulled away heading for the bathroom. "I'll get dressed." She muttered grabbing her clothes on the way.

Alistair, Anders and Zevran stared after her miserably; this was not how they had envisioned the morning after the night before.

**xXx**

Grace entered the Assembly chamber, Alistair, Anders and Zevran behind her. Since leaving the bathroom she hadn't spoken to them, too embarrassed and nervous about what would happen. Guards had met them in the corridor and they were escorted to the Assembly chamber. They noticed the guards barring the door as they entered, their eyes fixed on Zevran. Anders moved closer to his lover, gently squeezing his hand.

"I see you have found The Crow." Prince Bhelen rose from his chair looking at the elf a smirk on his lips as he addressed Duncan. He turned to Zevran. "So elf, who hired you to kill my brother?"

Zevran stepped forward looking remarkably calm given the circumstances. "I have killed no one since entering Orzammar. Perhaps there are those within your own Houses who would have reason to wish the King's demise."

"Unless you can provide an alibi I will have no choice but to order your execution."

Grace's eyes widened and she darted forward. "What proof do you have that Zevran did this?"

Bhelen moved down the stairs towards her. "He is an assassin of some reputation, a stunning coincidence that my brother should fall victim to poison on the very night he arrives."

Grace clenched her fists. "Coincidence is the limit of your proof! No assassin would be that stupid. It is more likely that someone who wanted the King dead took this opportunity." _Like you, you snake!_

"She has a point." Dumora spoke for the first time. "It would be a foolish assassin indeed to be so obvious." She glanced to the door; tapping the arm of the chair impatiently. "And as I have already stated brother there is proof he did not commit this crime."

"Then provide it!" Bhelen hissed.

"Brother one day you will learn that patience is a virtue." Dumora glanced once more to the doors, visibly relaxing as they opened.

They all turned as Harrowmont entered the chamber. "Forgive me, the door to my home seemed to have somehow been locked and the key fused in it." He moved into the room silence falling. "Ah Oghren, no ill effects after those fools attacked you outside of the Palace I see. I am glad you had help." He glanced to Grace. "Unusual help though it may have been. I hope you are well my dear."

Grace glanced to him in surprise. "I am well my Lord."

"Good, good. Now, I have heard rumours that an elven assassin is being blamed for the death of King Trian."

"He stands before the assembly." Bhelen muttered; realising his own game was being turned on him. He had never imagined Harrowmont would stand up to him and wondered what Dumora had offered him to do so. Perhaps marriage if she took the throne, but he doubted even she would go that far.

"Ah, perhaps a little premature to have him brought for judgement before gathering evidence." He signalled to the female dwarf who was hovering in the doorway.

Rica Brosca moved forward; shivering under the glares of the Assembly, the brand clear on her face.

Bhelen paled slightly and returned to his seat never taking his eyes from her. He knew she had been watching the elf on Dumora's orders and he had paid her a tidy sum to disappear. He felt his fury rise and scrabbled for a way to ensure he got out of this untarnished.

"Now Rica; if you will, please tell me what you were doing last night."

Rica flushed. "I was watching the elf."

"And who told you to watch him."

"Princess Dumora."

"And do you know why you were watching the elf?"

Rica swallowed. "Princess Dumora wanted to ensure her family was protected. It was hard to watch him without being seen he is very observant, at least until he went into the room of the lady standing next to him."

"And then?"

"He stayed there my Lord."

"You are sure."

Rica turned bright red. "Yes my Lord."

Grace stood in mortified silence. _She was watching!_

"Well." Dumora stated rising from her seat. "It would seem we still have a murderer to find, perhaps next time the Assembly will not be called so hastily."

Bhelen rose to his feet. "My humblest apologies, my drive to see my brother's murder overrode my judgement." He walked out with as much dignity as he could muster.

Dumora smiled; nodding to Harrowmont who would ensure Rica's safety, taking her into his own household, his nephew Renvil having expressed an interest in the noble hunter. "Warden Commander I would speak with you."

The Assembly filed out and the Wardens were taken to a chamber where they could remain together until their Commander returned.

**xXx**

"How can I help you, your Highness?" Duncan asked; still furious, but relieved Zevran no longer stood accused.

"I fear with Trian's death, Bhelen will even now be plotting against me. It was why I took the precaution of having the assassin watched; I hope you will forgive me. I would rather not end up dead, or exiled due to my brother's scheming. I also do not wish to resort to having to eliminate my brother; though if it is my life, or his I will chose mine of course."

"As much as I sympathise with your situation, what is it you expect from me?"

"I would be grateful for your help; I intend to go into the Deep Roads to seek the Paragan Branka. With a Paragan's support the assembly will place me on the throne."

"Warden's do not involve themselves in politics."

"I understand that and usually I would not be making such a request but we both have something the other needs. I need your help to find Branka and you need troops. Once I am Queen I will be happy to aid you."

"I would not advise you enter the Deep Roads, not only are they incredibly dangerous, but if you are not here to challenge your brother who knows what will have happened upon your return."

Dumora sighed. "You speak wisely and despite your instance of your political neutrality I see you realise the danger my brother poses. I ask you to consider my offer. I have a map and supplies and I will send my Second Oghren with you. He knows Branka better than anyone."

Duncan clenched his fists; he hated being backed into a corner, but he had no choice, he needed troops. "Very well, but know I only do this because I need help to fight this Blight."

"Understood Commander. When will you leave?"

"Immediately, before there is any further trouble."

**xXx**

Zevran glanced to Grace who had sank into a seat looking utterly drained. "Thank you for defending me." He murmured softly, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder.

Grace gently caressed his fingers with hers, snatching her hand away as Duncan stormed into the room.

"Everyone get packed we are heading into the Deep Roads to find a bloody Paragon so we can get the support we need."

Grace wanted to say something to her father to ease the discomfort between them but what could she say. Grace rose flinching beneath his glare and hurried to her room, Alistair following after her.

She shivered as Alistair caught hold of her.

"Grace we need to talk about this."

"No Alistair we don't. What we need to do is get packed and get back before my father explodes. We were drunk, let's just leave it there." She hated herself for those words; for the distress and disappointment in his eyes, but he nodded remaining silent and began packing.

**xXx**

Maverin and Danforth had agreed to stay behind to guard the Princess. Oghren was not happy to be leaving Dumora, but he knew the necessity of the journey. He and Gavarth spoke briefly at points, but mainly he kept to himself. Grace took him over some stew at their first camp; sitting down next to him, grinning at his fierce scowl.

"What?" He muttered taking the offered food.

"I was just wondering how you ended up as the Princess's Second."

Oghren regarded her curiously. He did not find her as offensive as the other humans; though only the Paragons knew why, she was irritatingly curious. "I'm a warrior and I earned the honour through battle."

"So when she becomes Queen will you be able to be together?"

Oghren's jaw hit the floor and he turned scarlet. He filled his mouth with stew and looked everywhere but at her.

"I'm sorry Oghren, I didn't mean to pry. It's just it's obvious you like her, I thought …."

"I protect her, there's nothing more to it than that."

Grace nodded, rising to her feet to withdraw. "I hope you enjoy the stew."

**xXx**

To Grace's surprise Oghren walked near to her when they broke camp, even having a conversation with her every now and again. She was delighted to tell him of the surface and spent an inordinate amount of time describing snow. He just looked at her blankly. Grace concentrated and snow started to fall, startling them all. Oghren gazed, almost as enchanted by the tiny flakes as Grace was.

"Grace my dear, you are freezing us." Zevran muttered, hating the slightest cold.

"Sorry." The snowflakes ceased, but she winked mischievously at Oghren as she allowed the snowflakes just to fall on them again for a few more moments. Grace froze suddenly holding up her hand so everyone stopped. The energy that had met her own was like thick oil that oozed over her senses; she narrowed her eyes trying to identify the differences in the tainted creatures ahead. "Two Ogres, five Hurlock's and something I've never felt before." There was a strange humming noise and a burst of energy and Grace found herself face to face with the creature she hadn't been able to identify. "Shriek." She yelled darting back from it as it slashed at her. The creature opened its mouth giving a scream that had them all pressing their hands to their ears. Grace felt a stabbing sensation in her mind and the tunnel seemed to dissolve.

"_**Come to me. I am waiting." **_

Grace shook her head struggling to focus, Zevran had put a dagger through the Shrieks head as the Hurlocks were being tackled by Aedan, Leliana and Anders. Shadow and Hunter tearing into limbs, hideous screams echoing around them.

Oghren and Gavarth took out one ogre, driving their axes through its legs severing its head as it toppled to the ground, its shriek of agony silenced.

Duncan and Alistair were facing the other ogre head on as Zevran slipped behind it. Duncan drove his sword into its gut, dodging the hand reaching for him that was severed by Alistair. The creature suddenly slumped forward falling into a heap, its spine severed. Zevran leapt off the creature and grinned.

Grace clutched the wall finding it hard to breathe, the clash of steel ringing in her ears.

"_**I have waited so long." **_

Grace fought against the nausea, against the state of unconsciousness that was trying to claim her.

"_**You are the one."**_

Grace clutched her head, the voice like stabbing nails forcing her to her knees. She took a deep shuddering breath opening her eyes with difficulty. Duncan was kneeling beside her, his face anxious. She tried to find Alistair and realised he was behind her; Anders kneeling next to her his hands already emanating a soft blue glow."What happened?" She murmured, having no wish to explain herself.

"You gave me a heart attack that's what happened." Duncan said hotly.

"Sorry." She mumbled. Her stomach cramped and with a groan she tried to push herself away from them. Alistair grabbed her hair out of the way as she wretched violently. Aedan held Hunter back who was whining loudly wanting to be near her.

Oghren knelt beside her and handed her what looked to be a root. "Chew, it will help with the nausea." He said gruffly.

It smelt vile; but Grace obediently chewed, relieved as her stomach began to settle.

"We'll make camp." Duncan stated.

"I'm fine to keep going." Grace argued stubbornly.

"Don't argue with me." Duncan commanded his face stern.

**xXx**

Several hours later they were moving once more through the Deep Roads. Grace felt the thrumming of the taint all around her. The Wardens grey/silver taint seemed to ripple above that of the Darkspawn, but the darker undercurrent was disturbing and nauseating. Since her own experience with the taint, she felt the presence of Darkspawn intensely and they were everywhere in the Deep Roads. Hunter stayed pinned to her leg giving her anxious looks. She smiled reassuringly, scratching his head. Grace sensed the group of Darkspawn ahead and felt the spiky energy that surrounded the Emissary. The Wardens were moving in and so she took a deep breath and sent out her magic, the golden tendrils snaking through the stone and wrapping around the numerous Darkspawn. The tendrils encouraged them to relax, to revel in their taint and therefore indulge in listening to the song of the Archdemon. She shuddered as the music washed over her, vibrating in every cell of her body as her magic connected them briefly. The Darkspawn were dead without ever lifting their blades and the music ended. Momentarily Grace felt bereft and she leaned against a large column in the Thaig, a deep ache making her limbs weak.

"Grace."

She heard Duncan's impatient tone, already the Wardens were moving on. Hunter licked her face, nudging and encouraging her to stand. She followed struggling with the nausea clawing at her stomach, her hand resting on Hunters head in an effort to try and ground herself. After three more groups had been dispatched in a similar fashion Duncan seemed to feel they could stop and rest. Grace slumped against the ruins in yet another battered Thaig, pulled up her knees and pressed her face against them. Her head was pounding and despite all the Darkspawn they had encountered being dead, the music still lingered. It rolled through her body seeming to suffocate her and she was finding it difficult to even think.

Hunter pressed tightly against her whining softly. He wasn't sure what was wrong, but his Grace didn't feel right. He nudged her hand; pressing against her as she gently stroked his ears, before she leant against him closing her eyes.

She was drifting when Duncan was calling them to move on. Grace didn't move. She was exhausted and the music encouraged her to stay where she was and just listen and she had no inclination to go against the voice that soothed her.

"Come on Grace."

She recognised Anders voice and he and Alistair were pulling her to her feet, ignoring her grumbling protests and Hunters soft whines. The rejuvenation spell that flowed through her then was welcome and helped to push the song back a little so she could at least think again. She trudged wearily after them, barely able to move one foot in front of another.

"_**Grace.**_**"**

The voice was like nails being dragged down a blackboard and she stopped, clutching her head in pain.

"_**Grace.**_**"**

It was like fire and ice; burning and freezing her, stripping the flesh from her bones.

_Grace stared out at the wasteland she usually only saw in her dreams. The sky was red, lit by the fire of a burning city. The broken trees still smoking, their charred and twisted forms like spikes in the earth. The hot breath on her neck told her of the Archdemon's presence. The smell of death had become almost common place. Those cold and calculating eyes fixed on her as she turned. She had been here many times before._

Alistair was concerned with how hard Duncan seemed to be pushing Grace, afraid that he was punishing her for what had happened. He froze at Hunter's howl and turned seeing Grace clutch her head and stagger to a halt. Yelling for Anders he ran towards her, catching her as she slumped to the ground giving a soft moan.

_Grace was on her knees staring into the mouth of the beast; sure flames would scorch her, but instead he had roared and snapped his head back._

"_**You will free me.**__" He hissed, the words tearing into her mind._

_It felt like he was cleaving her head in half and she whimpered, wishing it would end. "Not a chance." She managed to mumble, her throat burning with bile._

"_**I will live. Blood of my blood.**__"_

Anders magic called to her and her eyes flew open showing undisguised horror. She leaned back against the stone, gasping for breath and willing her heart beat to return to something like normal.

"What happened?" Duncan demanded.

"It's bad enough I see him in my dreams, now it's happening when I'm awake." She shuddered involuntarily.

"See who?" Duncan asked, a deep fear beginning to gnaw at his gut.

Grace paled and gazed at him uneasily, her words barely above a whisper. "The Archdemon."

"The Archdemon speaks to you?" Duncan couldn't keep the horror from his voice. "How long?"

She remained silent, her eyes catching the concerned glances of her companions.

"Grace, how long?" Duncan's tone became harsh in his panic.

"I started dreaming about him after I changed the taint for the first time."

Duncan's callused hand cupped her chin and raised her head until their eyes met. "Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was just dreams." She spoke softly. "This was something I could do to help you and the Wardens and I was afraid you would tell me not to change the taint with Danforth and Maverin and the others when we get back to them. The taint is so awful and being able to change that, turn something so corrupted into something beautiful …" She hesitated. "It's worth the nightmares."

Duncan gently rubbed a smudge of dirt from her jaw. "No more secrets." He stated softly. "About the taint at least. Promise me."

Grace nodded. "I promise."

"What is he saying to you?"

Grace gave a slight smile. "End of the world stuff. He usually shows me Denerim burning. The thing is obsessed."

Duncan raised an eyebrow realising her light heartedness was how she was coping with it. He rose and pulled her to her feet. "We'll make sure it never gets the chance!"

**xXx**

They had chased down the final group of Darkspawn that had attacked them and continued further along the tunnels, hesitating when a strange chanting was heard.

"First day, they come and catch everyone. Second day, they beat us and eat some for meat. Third day, the men are all gnawed on again. Fourth day, we wait and fear for our fate. Fifth day, they return and it's another girls turn. Sixth day, her screams we hear in our dreams."

They entered a small chamber off the tunnel and stared at the woman on her knees among filth and decomposing corpses. Grace hunkered down by Hespith. "Hello."

The dwarf looked at her through eyes grey with the taint; her face blotched with black stains that were also visible on her hands. "Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew."

"We can help." Grace said gently; reaching out to touch her, but she shrank back.

"Eighth day, we hate it as she is violated. Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin."

"Who are you?"

When she didn't answer Oghren stepped forward. "That's Hespith, she was with Branka."

Hespith turned to Oghren at the sound of Branka's name, anger in her eyes. "I will not speak of her!" She screamed with clenched fists. She turned back to Grace. "Now she does feast, as she's become the beast." Hespith reached out and grabbed Grace's hand. "Run; run from here, or you face the same fate as Branka." Grace stared after her startled as the tainted dwarf suddenly leapt to her feet and ran from the room.

**xXx**

Duncan held up his hand to halt their progress. Ahead appeared to be a sharp drop and the taint felt thick here. Duncan edged forward cautiously, his breath catching in his throat as he glanced down. The sheer number of Darkspawn swarming in the chasm was horrifying. Duncan had known the Darkspawn ranks would be great, but not even he had imagined this. Their twisted forms jostled each other for as far as he could see. Then he felt it, the song that had almost swept him into oblivion and he raised his eyes seeing the Archdemon itself staring away from him. He saw its mouth gape open, fire pouring out before it gave a terrible roar.

The Archdemon turned towards them; smirking at the tiny, pitiful Wardens. His eyes sought out the woman and for an instant their eyes met recognising the dragon in each other. _**"Blood of my blood." **_He hissed into Grace's mind and into the minds of the Warden's with her as he stared at her.

The Warden's gripped their weapons; they all knew they would not survive the encounter that the Darkspawn would overwhelm them, but they were determined to at least kill the Archdemon. It was with shock that they watched the Archdemon give a final roar before it leapt off the ledge and flew low above its troops heading away from them. Before they could really consider its actions, cries and grunts of effort reached them and they hurried on, Oghren identifying the fighting dwarfs as the Legion of the Dead.

They ran towards the bridge, Grace and Anders creating a lightning storm at the far side allowing them time to deal with those surging towards them before further Darkspawn reinforcements could reach them.

Grace recognised the humming noise and darted out of the way as the Shriek appeared. It snarled and reached for her, screaming as Zevran's blade sank into its side.

The creature twisted clawing at the elf and Aedan rushed forward slamming it against the side of the bridge, the momentum taking the creature over.

Grace watched as time seemed to slow down as the Shriek tightened its grip on Zevran and dragged him over the edge. Grace screamed and ran to the side glancing over to find the Shriek clutching the bridge and Zevran clinging to it. "Aedan, help me."

"Grace what in the Void are you doing?"

"Zevran's down there lower me."

"Are you crazy?"

"I'd lower you, but I don't have the strength to hold you."

Aedan darted forward and griped her ankles as she lowered herself over the edge.

"Zev." His eyes wide in fear locked on her. "Trust me. Take my hand." The Shriek tried to claw her and she punched it gripping Zevran's wrist as it lost its hold and fell towards its fellows. Grace felt as though her shoulders were burning and wondered if they were being pulled out of their sockets. She was aware of Aedan's grunts of exertion. "Climb up me Zev." He shook his head, unable to speak. "Aedan can't hold us, or pull us both up. Climb up me and then pull me up." Reluctantly Zevran did as she asked and Grace was relieved when she was no longer taking his full weight on her arms and felt concern for how Aedan would be faring. She felt herself being pulled up and was relieved to stand on stone once more. She was startled when Zevran flung his arms around her, his body shaking. She smiled, but there was no time to rest and recuperate. "Let's go."

He nodded and they hurried after the others, Aedan having already hurried after Leliana. The Darkspawn were relentless, seemingly endless and the companions were becoming exhausted.

Grace raced to the edge of the bridge and noticed the Ogre heading for Duncan. She downed the lyrium potion nestled in her pouch, the liquid singing through her body. "Everyone down." She yelled. No one hesitated, which was just as well as she sent an energy blast as hard as stone across the space ahead of her. It ripped through the Darkspawn as though they were paper, the Ogre dead before it hit the floor. Grace slumped against the bridge her body aching. The world was spinning, but they were safe for the moment and that was what counted.

"That's one hell of a trick." Oghren muttered leaning against the stone next to her, joined by Hunter who was jumping around them enthusiastically his fur matted with blood.

She smiled weakly. "Not something I want to do too often." She manifested a little rain to wash the blood off Hunter

Oghren nodded, looking grimly at the Legion of the Dead as they approached. "Kept to the back there."

The dwarfs ignored him moving to speak to Duncan.

Grace clasped her hand on Oghren's shoulder and grinned. "Let's go find some other nug humpers to kill."

Oghren chuckled. "You're not bad for a human."

"Why thank you Oghren. You're not so bad yourself."

**xXx**

Walking into a large cavern the stone moved behind them with a hideous grinding noise, effectively blocking them in. Oghren slammed the stone in fury.

"I could blast it." Grace mused, looking to Oghren for guidance.

"You'd probably bring the whole bloody place down on top of us!"

Grace nodded glancing around as they continued on through a small corridor, which brought them out into another large cavern.

Oghren stepped forward, giving a cry of alarm as he was lifted into the air by a huge tentacle. His axe dropped from his grip as he stared at the Broodmother. "By the Paragons, Branka! It can't be, not you."

Her tainted eyes gazed at him before swinging him high intending to dash him against the floor.

Gavarth sent his axe through the tentacle; Oghren dropping heavily to the stone, Alistair and Aedan rushing forward grabbing the stunned dwarf and pulling him backwards as Duncan, Gavarth and Danforth stabbed at the tentacles lashing against them. Anders and Grace tried to freeze her, but the spells did little to the huge bulk. The creature gave a hideous shrieking noise as she called for reinforcements.

"We need to kill her now." Duncan roared.

Oghren gave a low moan, gripping his axe his face torn with pain and horror.

Duncan's look was one of pity. "I'm sorry Oghren, but there's no alternative."

**xXx**

It seemed hours, though it was barely minutes that they had been dodging the wildly swinging tentacles. Oghren was pale and was barely putting effort into the axe swings.

"Oghren, help me." Grace gasped as she tried to freeze the Darkspawn pouring into the cavern answering Branka's call. Hunter snarling and lunging at any who tried to get near her.

Oghren shifted his position grateful for something else to kill and raced to the debilitated Darkspawn driving his axe through them. "Stone forsaken monstrosities!" He raged.

"Someone decapitate the damn thing!" Duncan roared finding himself trapped by four tentacles as they erupted from the ground.

Grace screamed as a tentacle burst through the ground nearest her and wrapped around her lifting her into the air. Hunter went berserk; howling fiercely, lunging at the tentacle with teeth and claw, Shadow running to his side at a nod from Aedan.

Oghren cut the tentacle in half, wincing as Grace hit the ground with a groan and grimacing at Branka's screams. He pulled Grace to her feet. "You good?"

Grace held her side and nodded, trying to calm Hunter. "Yeh, I'm good."

Oghren steeled himself and turned to face what had once been his wife. "I'll go deal with her; you get yourself at a distance."

"Oghren, I'm your Second remember? Where you go I go."

The dwarf stared at her startled and clasped her hand. "You've got some stones kid. May the ancestors look kindly upon us."

Grace felt her mouth go dry. "May the stone cradle us when we die." She turned to Hunter. "Protect Alistair." She wrapped her arms around him at his low whine. "Please Hunter." She gave him a nudge and he darted off to Alistair's side.

Oghren nodded and together they ran headlong towards the brood mother, Oghren swinging his axe wildly as Grace ducked and weaved her way towards the body.

Duncan watched them in horror cursing them both. He caught sight of Alistair, Anders and Zevran who looked just as horrified before they swarmed against the Broodmother trying to distract her from their approach. Duncan hacked at a tentacle. _Grace please get out of this alive. I swear I won't interfere with whoever you want to be with. I might not like it, but I'll keep my mouth shut._

Grace ducked a tentacle only to take a direct hit to the stomach sending her flying back into Oghren. "Now you're just pissing me off!" She snarled as she staggered to her feet, ducking another tentacle and narrowly avoiding another. She hissed in frustration as Oghren was hurled backwards as she was caught by another tentacle that swung her up, finding herself dangled in front of the brood mother. It shook her brutally. Grace hissed an oath as the dagger slipped from her hand. Oghren bellowed a war cry charging towards them and drove his axe into Branka's stomach.

Grace hissed in pain as the venomous spit burned into her arm, manifesting lightening around her body making the brood mother drop her in alarm. She hit the floor with a loud yelp. Gritting her teeth against the pain she stood, searching desperately for the dagger having no idea where her other one was. She hit the floor to avoid yet another tentacle horrified to see Oghren inches from the abominations face, Branka ready to dash him against the wall. The others were making progress but it would not be in time to save him. Grace spied the former Crow inching towards them. "Zevran, throw me a dagger." She yelled hissing in pain as she caught it with her injured arm. "Get Oghren." She yelled as she began dragging herself up the bulk of the brood mother, driving the dagger deep into the flesh trying to get her attention and give her a foothold. She saw Oghren hurled across the cavern, Aedan breaking his fall, both letting out grunts of pain.

Sweat stung her eyes; each movement seemed to make the burn of the venom sink deeper into the muscles of her shoulder and arm. Gritting her teeth she pressed close to the folds of stinking flesh to avoid the lash of a tentacle. She felt a surge of energy and knew Anders had cast regeneration. She didn't dare look for him concentrating on getting to the head. She cried out as a tentacle glanced off her injured shoulder, struggling to keep hold.

Oghren roared an oath and lunged for Branka, everyone attacking from different points trying to draw her attention away from Grace.

Grace forced herself to keep going, almost sobbing in frustration as she slipped having to catch hold of a handful of flesh to steady her. Bile burned her throat as something oozed through her fingers. She glanced up realising she was only a few feet from the head. She dug in the dagger and heaved herself up finally reaching the shoulders, or what had once been shoulders. She stared at the dagger and then at the head. Training and using the blades for defence was one thing; but sinking her blade into another living being was quite another. Grace froze and then she heard it; a softer voice begging for freedom, begging for release. Grace closed her eyes, clenching her jaw as the images assaulted her of what the Darkspawn had done to Branka. Her eyes flared open, her body shuddering. "It's over now." She gasped driving the blade deep into her neck and severing her spinal cord. Branka's tentacles crashed to the ground and she lay still. Grace was unable to move, still clasping the dagger, the horror of what she had seen and done leaving her immobile.

Zevran nimbly climbed the hulk of oozing flesh realising Grace was in shock and gently wrapped his arms around her, his hands closing over hers ignoring Duncan's momentary glare. "Let go my sweet." He whispered soothingly. He felt her shudder and finally her fingers released their hold. He gripped the dagger grimacing at the sucking noise as it eased out of the flesh. "Come, it is over."

Zevran helped her down; Alistair catching her as she slipped, holding her tightly as she shivered in his arms. "Hush love, you are safe now."

**xXx**

They made camp as far from the cavern as they were able to walk horrified by what had happened to the Paragan they had been here to find. Grace slumped next to Oghren; her arm freshly bandaged, magic only went so far with the burns. She chuckled as Hunter nudged his head under her arm, gazing at her with his huge brown eyes.

Oghren shook his head. "Thanks." He mumbled.

"I'm sorry Oghren."

"By the tits of my ancestors you're crazy."

Grace laughed. "You're a fine one to talk."

He grinned and they chatted softly before he gave a loud yawn. "Gonna get some sleep." He mumbled, patting her uninjured shoulder as he moved to the other side of the cave exhausted.

The others were sleeping; Zevran just coming to the end of his watch, he sat next to her, smiling as Grace leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Zev."

"Yes dear one."

Grace smiled. "No more dangling off bridges okay?"

Zevran laughed and gave her a side long glance. His heart hammered in his chest. Just being able to touch her for one night had left him aching for her and he would have given anything to change that morning. Neither Grace nor Alistair would speak of what had happened between them and Anders was as frustrated as he about the situation they found themselves in. The act of love making was nothing to be ashamed of; but she had been made to feel ashamed by her father. It had enraged him at the time and its ferocity had not dimmed. He reached out and gently took hold of her hand, bringing it to his lips. "Once I tried to take your life." He said softly. "Now I would willingly give mine to save it." He stood up and gave a small bow; walking over to Anders, leaving her mouth open in shock.

**xXx**

_Grace found herself alone in the Deep Roads, her heart pounding in her chest, her hands slick with sweat. She listened, her body pressed against the wall of the tunnel she was in. The roar seemed to echo around her and she had no idea which way to go. She crept forward, her heart hammering so loudly she feared those that chased her would hear. She entered a cavern and couldn't help the cry that left her lips. Two brood mothers faced her, their faces achingly familiar. She wept as those she had thought were her mother and sister gazed at her with tainted grey eyes. She felt hot breath on her neck and turned, hitting the ground and scrabbling backwards as quickly as she could away from the Archdemon. _

"_**You are mine to do with as I will. You could be magnificent; your children a powerful generation, we could take the surface easily."**_

_Grace paled. "Is that what I am to you, a potential brood mother?" _

_The Archdemon laughed into her mind, piercing her skull with sharp ice like sensations. __**"Such an interesting possibility."**_

_Grace realised her hands were resting in the thick pink webbing that criss crossed along the floor of the chamber. His claw reached over pinning her to the floor, undeterred by her thrashing limbs. Grace saw the Darkspawn approach, her memories replaying what they had done to Branka and she began to scream. She gagged and choked as vile liquid was pouring down her throat, burning its way through her body. _

Grace woke with a start; her body soaked with sweat, her limbs trembling. She realised with some surprise that no-one appeared to be aware of her distress. She pushed her fist to her mouth to prevent the scream that threatened to erupt. Forcing back the tears and the nausea she retreated within herself. The Archdemon's new form of torture was debilitating. She sat with her back to the stone; refusing sleep as it teased at her eyelids, making them heavy. Her nails bit into the flesh of her hands; as she used the pain to keep herself awake, staring unconcerned at the blood that pooled at her fingertips. She glanced up warily as Duncan approached her, they had barely spoken other than to argue or snap at each other.

Duncan knelt beside her. "You need to rest."

"I am resting."

"You need sleep."

"Trust me sleep is anything but restful."

Duncan sighed not wishing to get into another argument with her and was startled when she grabbed his wrist.

"If I … if I become one of those things, you'll end it for me won't you?"

Duncan paled. "Grace, that's not going to happen."

Her grip tightened. "But if it does. You'll make sure you kill me?"

Duncan shifted his position and gently took her hand, startled by the fingernail marks and blood. "I'll make sure Grace."

Relief flooded her. "And don't feel guilty, okay?"

Duncan pressed his forehead to hers. "It won't happen, I promise!"

**xXx**

Unable to go back, the Wardens and their companions forged ahead through the twisting tunnels and corridors filled with traps. They moved cautiously; testing each room, each section of corridor, frustrated by the time it was taking to go such short distances. Finally they reached a huge cave, warmed by the vast river of larva moving beyond the far ledge. Grace was the only one not surprised by the numerous golems in the room.

"By the Paragans." Oghren breathed.

"Why have you come?" Caridin's booming voice echoed around the cavern.

"We came seeking a Paragan." Duncan muttered. "But she has returned to the stone, now we seek only a way back to Orzammar."

"Liars." Caridin roared. "You have come for the anvil. I will not let more atrocities happen in the name of fighting back the Darkspawn."

"You bleedin slag heap, no one's after the anvil." Oghren yelled. "Wait, the Anvil of the Void? It's here?"

"Silence." Caridin was building himself up into a fury. "I will not hear your lies."

The companions were suddenly very aware that ten very angry golems surrounded them.

"May I speak with you my Lord Caridin." Grace said evenly.

Oghren stared from Grace to the golem in astonishment.

The golems paused. "How do you know who I am?"

"If you would allow me to approach I will explain."

He waved her forward and she walked briskly to the huge golem's side. They walked towards the ledge, Duncan frantic with worry.

**xXx**

"My Lord Caridin we came seeking the Paragan Branka but she was turned to a brood mother and we had no choice but to return her to the stone. I know how you made golems and I would never allow that to happen again. What you did was horrendous, but you too have suffered. Please, all we want is to return to Orzammar. In return we will destroy the Anvil."

Caridin regarded her suspiciously at first and then seemed to relax a little. "Why were you searching for Branka?"

"The King was assassinated. The Warden's need troops to help the fight against the Blight. Orzammar needs a ruler and the Assembly is at loggerheads. The word of a Paragan would do much to resolve the situation."

"Do those you travel with know what you are?"

Grace stared at him, the colour draining from her face. The lyrium carved into his stone body glowing slightly. "I don't even know what I am."

Caridin softened at her murmur; stone fingers cupping her face, surprisingly gently. "You are light fighting the dark. I will give you what you need for the Assembly to choose a ruler and show you the way back, in return you will destroy the Anvil."

"Agreed." She left him to work and headed towards her father. "Caridin will help us in exchange for destroying the Anvil, which I have agreed to."

Duncan stood startled. "Grace with the Anvil we could have an army of golems, the Blight could be over."

Grace simply stared at him. "Are you kidding me? Does the fact that the Paragon Caridin himself is a golem not tell you how golems are made?"

Duncan glanced in Caridin's direction and to the golems in the room. "Maker!"

Grace folded her arms. "The Anvil is an abomination and I will destroy it with or without your agreement. It will take no more lives."

Leliana paled. "You mean the golems were once dwarves?"

Grace nodded. "There were volunteer's first and when they ran out they rounded up whoever they could and forced them into golem suits. They poured molten lyrium into it and hey presto a pretty much unstoppable fighting machine. Of course the dwarf was dead!" She turned to Duncan. "Nothing is worth doing that to someone."

They sat in silence for some time listening to the pounding of the hammer on metal. Duncan was watching Grace carefully, her eyes fixed on Caridin. Killing Branka had clearly been traumatic for her, and her fear of becoming like her tore at him. Duncan ran his fingers through his beard and glanced towards Alistair. Anders and Zevran rarely left his side and he realised they were seeking comfort from each other. Grace had withdrawn from them all and the three of them were struggling. They were worried for her and the more she distanced herself the more they held to each other.

He wished desperately that he hadn't reacted the way he had whilst in the Palace. What business was it of his who she shared her bed with? But he had been embarrassed and now he didn't dare approach her about it, that was one argument he did not wish to have in this dark place. The Archdemon's words had also left him with a knot in his gut; he had no understanding of what it meant, nor did any of the others, but they all knew it was trouble. He glanced up as Caridin approached them.

Caridin handed the crown to Oghren as Grace had asked. Oghren bowed and accepted the crafted piece.

Grace moved to the Anvil at Caridin's nod. The hammer was huge and she had no idea how she was going to lift it. She noticed runes etched into the handle and picked it up with little effort, the glow of the runes shimmering on her palms. She felt the thrum of the lyrium that had bled into the Anvil; a thousand souls screaming out to her and with a roar she brought the hammer crashing down onto the Anvil splitting it down the centre. She felt a surge of unbelievable power, the two parts teetering and then falling from the cliff edge sinking into the lava below.

Caridin returned to her side, resting a heavy hand on her shoulder. "You have my eternal thanks, Atrast nal tunsha – may you always find your way in the dark." Caridin dived off the ledge and vanished into the lava.

For one moment Grace thought to join him; the horrors of the Deep Roads weighing heavily on her soul and the pull for oblivion enticing, but she forced herself to turn away. "I hope you find peace."


	30. Freedom In Truth

Their return to Orzammar was relatively uneventful. They once more found themselves before the Assembly and Oghren spoke of the trials they had undergone before proudly presenting the crown from the Paragan Caridin. There were startled cries and hushed whispers before silence fell, all eagerly waiting to discover who the Paragon had chosen to be crowned.

Bhelen glared at Grace. "Tell us then, who did the Paragon choose?"

"Will you abide by his word?" Grace's voice was ice.

"We will." Dumora stated, unnerved by her cold look.

"The Paragon wished there to be a Queen on the throne, instead of a King."

The Assembly erupted into both cheers and snarls. "How can we believe the words of this woman?" Bhelen roared.

"It is not my word, but that of a Paragon."

Bhelen cursed the Wardens, Dumora and Caridin as his careful planning turned to dust.

Grace watched the fight that erupted as Bhelen ordered his men to attack and he rushed down the steps towards his sister. Grace was still furious with him about Zevran and placed a shield around Dumora. He turned on her, eyes blazing. Grace ducked his blow and drove her foot against his knee, watching him collapse to the floor. She froze him and knelt beside him as the fight waged around them. "You should never have brought Zevran into your schemes." She hissed standing and sending her foot square into his chest watching as he shattered.

The fight was over shortly after, all of Bhelen's men having fought to the death. Harrowmont and several others loyal to Dumora were severely injured, but Dumora herself was unharmed and now the Queen of Orzammar. Once the Assembly had settled down and the injured were being treated Dumora and Duncan retired to other chambers to discuss the Blight.

Duncan was relieved she kept her word and the promised troops were pledged to the fight.

**xXx**

Grace wandered off by herself needing some time to think. Killing Bhelen was necessary, but the ease with which she had taken his life left her uneasy. She supposed she should feel grateful she felt anything at all, after the torments of the Archdemon and events with Branka she had tried to cut herself off from feeling. She rested against a wall outside of the Shaperate gazing down at the lava, grateful for its warmth. Orzammar had stripped her bare in more ways than she cared to admit and she ached to be gone. She needed fresh air and sunlight and anything but stone surrounding her. The sparkle of her ring caught her eyes and she stared at the jewels, tears forming in her eyes. She thought of Alistair, Anders and Zevran and shrank from the pain. That night had been unlike anything she had ever experienced, she had felt safe and loved and whole. She wiped her eyes angrily, she didn't want to care; didn't want to love, it was too painful. She shook her head refusing to wallow in self-pity and headed back to the Palace.

**xXx**

Oghren hurried after the companions as they made ready to leave Orzammar. "Hey Grace."

She looked back startled and hesitated. "What is it Oghren?"

Oghren shivered, her voice was without any of its usual warmth. "There it is, right there!" He stomped towards her angrily. Her companions watched startled as the Dwarf stood boldly before her, doing what they all secretly wanted to do. "Where's the woman who got drunk and decided she was going to be my Second? Where's the woman who beat the crap out of those nug humping bastards with her bare hands? Where's the woman who took down a brood mother? Gavarth calls you Kitten; but you're more wolf, all teeth and claws, but wolves are pack animals, they protect and stick together."

"What's your point Oghren?"

He pointed at her fiercely. "My point is that you're losing yourself. The Deep Roads can turn people and they've hit you hard. You're so cold you may as well be one of those bloody golems."

Grace felt the lump swell in her throat.

"You're fire, not ice. You showed me compassion, fought alongside me and you didn't even know me. Lose that and you may as well become one of the Darkspawn."

Grace opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her with a wave of his hand. "Orzammar hasn't been a friend to you, but I hope you will accept this as a gift of new beginnings." He signalled a dwarf she realised had been hovering and he hurried forward. Oghren took the staff from his hand and placed it in Grace's. "Elven made; stronger than steel apparently. It ain't gonna break even if an Ogre stepped on it."

The wood was pale, almost white and was engraved with symbols of lyrium with a huge clear quartz crystal nestled in a lattice of the bark at the top. Grace momentarily thought to tell him that she couldn't accept it; that it would show everyone she was a mage, but as her fingers caressed the bark she felt a soft tingle move through her body. It felt cleansing; purifying and to her relief the song of the Archdemon began to fade into the background. She gazed at him startled. "Oghren I …"

"To light your way in the dark." He muttered staring at his feet, suddenly embarrassed. "Maybe help bring you back to yourself."

"It's beautiful Oghren, thank you." She whispered, kneeling down and wrapping her arms around his neck pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "I feel better already."

He patted her shoulder awkwardly. "You travel with good people; even if they are human. Fine and an elf." He grumbled at Zevran's raised eyebrow. "Maybe it's time to stop running and trust they have your back."

Grace felt her resolve start to crumble and she nodded. "Good advice." She whispered.

"You just punch that Archdemon on the nose when you see him again." He smiled at her soft chuckle. "I knew you were still in there."

"I wish you were going to be with me."

"Maybe I'll see you where this thing goes down. Now go, before I lose my reputation for being a hard ass."

**xXx**

Grace paced back and forth on the edge of the camp site, her agitation more than obvious to her companions who observed her while trying to look busy with other things. With their return to the surface she had begun to feel a little more like herself. She knew it was time to tell them the truth, but she was afraid of the consequences. Clenching her fists she gathered her courage and approached the camp fire. "I need to tell you all something that might not be easy to hear, it certainly wasn't easy for me to hear." She glanced at her father, struggling to swallow the lump in her throat. "The fact that you and Flemeth are my parents you already know. What you don't know is I ... I grew up on a different world." Grace kept her eyes on her father, aware of the startled gasps of her fellows and watched his face drain of colour. "Flemeth said she sent me there to keep me safe, I suspect from the taint. Where I grew up there is no magic; no Archdemon, no blight and no taint. That is why I had never sensed the taint in the Wardens before arriving on the battlefield and why I had never created any magic before that moment." She pushed on aware of Duncan's astonished look. "My family in that world were … killed … and a year later I found myself in that cave with Flemeth." She paused, it sounded ridiculous even to her and she had lived it. "She told me they were killed so I wouldn't search for a way back when she brought me here." She looked at Anders her eyes filled with tears. "She said they were nothing, that Cullen was unimportant. I was so angry. We fought." She shuddered at the memory, unconsciously wrapping her arms around her stomach and risked another look at her father, who was staring at her in concern. "When the shriek attacked us I was hearing the Archdemon, that's why I couldn't focus. After that it seemed the more time we spent in the Deep Roads the more sadistic he became. I think the reason he speaks to me is because …" She let out a breath not sure how to say what had to be said. "Flemeth isn't a mage and she isn't a demon. Flemeth is Anaria." She glanced at the blank faces and felt almost a sense of relief when Leliana gasped.

"She can't be." Leliana exclaimed loudly staring at her friend.

"Who is Anaria and why does it matter?" Duncan asked, the name tugging at some long ago memory. A name glanced in an ancient text held by the Wardens; he wished he had paid more attention.

"Maker's Breath Grace; if that's true, what does that make you?" The bard ignored Duncan.

"I don't know."

"Who is Anaria?" Duncan's voice became louder and impatient.

"No wonder the Archdemon affects you so much?" Leliana's mind skipping ahead, the others lost having no idea what the significance of the name was.

"Who in the Void is Anaria?" Duncan yelled getting to his feet, furious at being ignored.

Grace turned back to him, her face torn in anguish. "Anaria is one of the Old Gods." Silence fell as everyone tried to process the startling information.

Duncan felt the world spin; he had lain with an Old God, had a child with her. He glanced to Grace her unusual powers starting to make sense.

"Wait, that ... that means you're related to the Archdemon." Anders voice sounded too loud in the silence.

Grace glanced from their ashen faces to the grass willing herself not to be sick. "Thanks Anders, like I really wanted to hear that out loud."

He paled, staring at his hands.

"You've been carrying that knowledge all of this time." Duncan said at last.

His soft tone gave her the strength to look at him. "I didn't know how to tell you. At first I didn't want to believe it. Flemeth took Morrigan's body; it's why she has daughters so she can extend her life span, but she had me for some purpose she won't reveal. I don't know what I am; or why I'm here, but I can't keep this in any more, even if it means losing all of you." She gave a heart rending sob and buried her face in her hands.

Duncan's heart shattered, he pulled Grace into his arms hugging her tightly. "Forgive me." He pleaded. "I may be an insensitive bastard at times; but you are my daughter and I love you, please, never doubt that."

Grace relaxed into his arms; soaking up the warmth of his body, the smell of leather and the strong heart beat that she would take with her into whatever darkness she faced. "I'm so scared." She admitted at last, her whole body shaking. "I think he wanted to make me a brood mother." Each word tortured; each sentence accompanied by a sobbing wail as she spilled out all she had seen, all the Archdemon had forced her to experience.

Duncan held her firmly, his heart breaking for his child understanding now the intensity of her fear in the Deep Roads. "I will keep you safe." He soothed. It was enough, his words easing the ice like grip around her heart. Grace pulled back slightly gazing into his dark eyes, trembling. He kissed her forehead gently. "I'm sorry Grace; sorry that you carried this alone, sorry for the way I have acted lately." He pressed another kiss to her forehead. "I swear that will never be your fate."

Grace took a calming breath and turned to Alistair who was staring at her wide eyed. She sniffed miserably. "I'd understand if you didn't want to be with me anymore." Tears sparkling like diamonds on her eyelashes as she blinked. The heat of his body was intense as he pulled her against him.

Alistair bent to her ear, his breath on her skin making her ache. "Grace, I love you and I will not let anything part us." He captured her lips in a tender kiss, relieved when she relaxed in his arms.

**xXx**

Alistair had taken her to their tent moments later; he undressed and moved to Grace relieved when she didn't object when he began to remove her own clothing. His hands were gentle, his gaze loving. He kissed her gently as he lay down beside her, pulling her close to him. "We are just two people Grace, no matter our parents. I love you. I will always love you." He held her then; caressing her hair, his fingertips gently drifting down her neck and across her shoulders. His fingers interlaced with hers and drawing up her hand, he placed soft kisses against her fingers.

"Despite my stunning lack of boundaries with our friends?"

Alistair chuckled. "Apart from the time spent with you, that was the best night of my life." He looked at her hesitantly. "Do you regret it?"

She hesitated and then shook her head her cheeks flushing. "I regret that it was made so public; but I don't regret what happened between us." She gently ran her fingertips down his jaw. "I thought it was beautiful."

Alistair gave her a loving smile. "You might want to let Anders and Zev know that." He murmured kissing her neck and nibbling her ear. "They are worried about you and Anders is terrified that he has lost you."

She sighed nestling closer. "I've been so awful lately."

Alistair scooted down so he was looking into her eyes. "Distant; unhappy, but never awful."

She smiled kissing him gently; closing her eyes as his fingers drifted across her ribs, resting on her hip, his soft lips chasing the fear away.

**xXx**

Alistair watched Grace as she dressed, pulling her back to him for the third time kissing her hungrily.

"You're insatiable." She giggled.

"Making up for lost time." He mumbled into her throat, working his way up to her ear making her sigh and press against him.

"I thought we were going to speak to Anders and Zev."

He cupped her cheek pulling her close kissing her nose. "Fine." He relented, pulling on his tunic and ushered her out as he scrabbled about looking for the rest of his clothes.

Grace joined Anders and Zevran at the campfire, biting her lip nervously. "Hi."

Both hesitated only a second before pulling Grace into fierce hugs that left her breathless. Anders gently placed a kiss on her cheek pulling her tight to him, Zevran pressing against her back, his hot breath sending shivers of delight through her. Arms wound around all three and they smiled at Alistair who was grinning.

"This is what should have happened when we woke up." He murmured gently.

Grace gave a contented sigh and as they broke apart she curled up with Alistair next to the fire.

"It seems I was closer to the truth than I realised when I called you my Goddess." Zevran gave a cheeky grin.

Grace sighed and shook her head gently. "I'm just a woman Zev." She yawned.

"Ah, but what a woman."

She smiled broadly and lay her head against Alistair's chest, feeling loved and protected.

**xXx**

The following morning Grace approached Anders her staff in hand. He smiled at her habit of biting her lip when she was nervous, it made her more human. He was still getting used to the idea that well she wasn't quite human.

"Anders I have no idea how to use this."

He chuckled. "It's just to create a point of focus, but given the lyrium and the crystal it probably enhances spells as well. You basically just channel the energy into the staff and point."

"Channel and point, got it." They did not have to wait long for Grace to test out the staff; they were barely on the road an hour when they sensed Darkspawn in front of them.

"You're up." Anders encouraged.

Grace took a deep breath and glanced down the hill at the large group of Darkspawn, busy destroying a farm. The Ogre turned looking up and bellowed. Grace gripped the staff, her knuckles white. _Just point and fire, how hard can it be?_ The air crackled with the magical discharge and she stared in astonishment as the magic tore through the Ogre, leaving a huge hole where its stomach had been. It collapsed to the ground. The magic rippled out to the other Darkspawn with similar effect. Grace stared at the bodies, at the staff and let out a low whistle. She glanced to Anders who was staring open mouthed. "I take it that isn't normal."

Anders recovered himself and grinned. "What is with you? I told you it would enhance your magic. You could probably take out the entire Chantry with that."

Grace shook her head at his wicked grin and stared at the staff. _Don't tempt me. _

**xXx**

Fergus was overjoyed when they returned to Redcliffe; hugging his brother tightly, relieved that he was unharmed. They spoke at length about the Landsmeet and Fergus confirmed they would have much support as many Arls were fearful for their own families.

Grace was not at all sure of how the Landsmeet would go given they were opposing the King and fear had settled in her that they would all be hung for treason before the Archdemon ever came to the surface. She had slipped out of the room as the discussion continued, needing air. She wandered the Castle's garden; it had grown somewhat wild given recent events, but it suited her mood. She lay back on the soft fragrant grass watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky. A beautiful butterfly of the palest blue alighted on her forehead for the briefest moment before launching into the sky. She sat up startled when a sharp cawing noise disturbed the stillness and locked eyes with the raven sitting on the tree in the centre of the garden; watching her with golden eyes, the butterfly crushed in its beak. "Flemeth?" She rose slowly approaching the bird that continued to stare at her unblinking. The bird let out a startling cry and took to the sky, sweeping across the garden and vanishing over the wall. _Why did you bring me here?_


	31. The Price of Politics

Cailan paced his chamber in fury. A Landsmeet had been called by none less than that damn Fergus Cousland and his lackey Teagan Guerrin. His bowel spasmed in fury and he clutched his stomach waiting for the cramping to pass. His stomach pains had started shortly after receiving the letter from Eamon asking him to annul his marriage. Just the slight niggle to begin with, but now it was a torment. He sighed; wiping the sweat from his brow. Since Anora had fallen pregnant she was completely self-absorbed, she had even stopped their afternoons together where she had soothed him by massaging his temples. She had doubled his intake of the tonic despite his protests that it wasn't helping. He had still never found out what it was made of. He sighed; his wife could be awfully secretive at times. He groaned again as his stomach cramped violently and was grateful that the stone walls were cool against his burning skin.

He fleetingly thought to call for Alistair who would be sympathetic to his plight, smiling as he remembered the young boy who had hovered near him as a child desperately trying to act big and brave to get into the good graces of his older brother. His stomach churned as he remembered he had poisoned Alistair himself. Those few drops diluted in wine that his brother had drank at their farewell. Cailan felt hot tears well in his eyes, burning a trail down his fevered cheeks. He had survived; but it was no consolation, Alistair was trying to take the throne, just as Cousland was, just as Eamon had tried to do. He shivered at the dark thoughts that flooded his mind; trying to fight them, searching for some clarity. It was getting so hard to think, so hard to see beyond his own fears. Anora had been his only guide, but now she seemed distant. He ached for his brother; his traitorous, lying brother. He would give him one chance to confess he decided. Confess his deceit and he would allow him to live; in the tower of course, but he would not put his own brother to the sword, unless he continued his pursuit of power.

Cailan sighed; he should have paid more attention to Alistair as he was growing up, the cruel whispers of him being the bastard Prince must have eaten away at him, making him determined to have his revenge by ruling them all. Cailan groaned slumping to the floor. He had failed his bother utterly. He sighed sadly, his father would have been furious with him for his lack of sight. He had always been distant to Alistair, as though he was aware of his treachery from birth. It would have been better if Alistair had been given to the Chantry; but he ached for the small boy who had worshipped him, forcing his heart to harden to give him the strength to face the Landsmeet in the morning.

**xXx**

Teagan and Fergus strode into the Landsmeet taking in the angry look of the King and the hall full of nobles; some with invested interests in both sides, some just curious, sitting on the fence ready to back the winner. The Wardens and companions entered the hall just behind them, alert to any signs of danger and foul play.

Cailan stared coldly at Alistair, at the Cousland brothers and at Teagan. "As you saw fit to call this Landsmeet Fergus Cousland pray speak."

"I think you will find the correct form of address is Teyrn Fergus Cousland your Majesty."

Cailan glared at the eldest Cousland, his cheeks flushed with anger. Anora gripped her husband's hand, cautioning him. "Speak then, Teyrn Cousland."

Fergus turned addressing the assembled Banns. "My Lords, I do not call this Landsmeet idly. No one is above the law and that includes the King. I have proof that not only did the King conspire with Arl Howe to destroy my family, he was directly responsible for the poisoning of his own brother and responsible for ordering the poisoning and subsequent death of Arl Eamon. If this goes unaddressed, which of you will fall next to his paranoia? Which of you will wake in the night to find a sword at your throat, or sip poison in your drink? Which of you will stand by and allow a man no longer fit to rule, remain King? My family has never sought the throne. My father was content to do his duty to King and Ferelden and they were never at odds. I too wish to do my duty, but they are conflicted. I cannot in good conscience follow a man who believes it is his divine right to destroy whole families with no cause other than his own misguided thinking."

Voices rose in shock and astonishment at Fergus's words. Grace glanced around uneasily as the Kings guards moved into view throughout the hall. She glanced back to Cailan, something was very wrong. He looked unwell and something about the look of his skin reminded her of Alistair when he had been poisoned. She stretched out her magic struggling to identify the dark energy that was clouding his mind. It was like poison flowing through his veins, but it had the faint hum of lyrium.

"I am the King." Cailan roared. "I will protect my throne as I see fit. Arl Eamon plotted against me; to force me to annul my marriage and take another wife, yet see, Anora is with child."

Anora flushed her eyes resting momentarily on Alistair. The Queen looked directly at Grace then and smiled smugly, running her hand over her swollen stomach. Alistair was relieved that Grace seemed too preoccupied to notice.

"You do not deny the charge then." Bann Franderel spoke, openly challenging the King.

Cailan simply growled.

Fergus remained calm; presenting his irrefutable evidence, which only seemed to be further confirmed by the fury of the King.

"Perhaps this can be decided by the sword." Bann Sighard dropped into the raging discussion at a signal from Fergus that went unnoticed by all who did not know it. The hall became silent, all eyes on the King.

Cailan was completely startled and found himself in a position where his pride would not allow him the benefit of turning down the suggestion. He rose, Loghain at his side and made his way towards Fergus unsheathing the lethal two handed sword, his father's blade that glinted in the shafts of sunlight that filtered down from the windows.

Aedan swallowed hard; knowing his brothers skill, yet still fearful.

Grace darted forward gripping Fergus's arm, he turned to her startled. "Fergus, the King is not himself." Her eyes pleaded with him to believe her. "It's like poison flowing through him, please Fergus we have to help him."

Fergus stared at her in disbelief. "He was partly responsible for the death of my wife; my child, my parents."

Grace trembled, gently resting her hand on his arm. "I know, but something has been done to him."

Fergus looked to Alistair who had moved closer, his conflict clear on his face. Fergus sighed, forcing himself to reign in his raging emotions. "You saved my life; speak to him if you wish, but Grace." He gripped her arm. "Be careful, he is unstable."

She nodded. "Thank you."

Cailan stared at her wondering who she was; took in how close his brother stood to her, how protective his stance and recognised those stunning features despite her change of hair and eye colour. His eyes widened in astonishment, having believed her to be dead. "I knew you would be trouble." He hissed glaring at her.

"Your Majesty; I know you have no reason to believe me, but someone has been poisoning you. I can feel it. I helped your own brother when he was poisoned, let me help you."

Cailan watched her as a hunter would his prey; the woman his brother loved, the woman who had saved him from the Ogre offering to save him again.

"She speaks lies." Anora murmured, appearing at her husband's side.

Grace felt the swell of rage burn within her. "I see you weren't content with harming just one brother." Grace hissed.

Anora stood cold; impassive, only her eyes gave her away, gleaming like flame.

Cailan moved towards Grace, aware that his brother watched him closely. "You saved my brother?"

Grace nodded, fear constricting her throat. "I did your Majesty."

Cailan was torn, but it was too difficult to think clearly. "You saved my scheming; traitorous, treacherous brother!" He moved so quickly Grace was stunned to find herself pinned to the wall Cailan's fingers gripping her throat as he pointed at his brother, having effortlessly re-sheathed his sword.

"Grace!" Alistair darted forward freezing as Cailan raised his hand.

"Be still brother." Cailan snarled; it would be such a shame to snap her pretty neck.

"Cailan please, Alistair loves you." Grace gasped.

"Yet he stands with those who oppose me. He plotted against me!" He snarled.

Grace tried not to panic; he wasn't squeezing hard enough to kill her, not yet. "Let me help you."

Alistair clenched his fists. "Cailan I swear to the Maker if you hurt her I will kill you myself."

Cailan glared. "You reveal yourself at last my brother. It would seem the bastard prince has his eyes on the throne."

Alistair stared at him stunned. "When have I ever shown an interest in the throne? Cailan you know me, you know I have never wanted it. Please brother, stop this you are not yourself."

Cailan shook his head. "I cannot tolerate traitors."

Grace wrapped her fingers around his wrist as he squeezed harder, trying to push back his arm. She closed her eyes; forcing herself to relax and ease her magic into him.

Cailan felt her magic as a soothing balm; it was the only thing that stopped his fingers from tightening further. He shivered and let go.

Grace sank against the wall defeated; she was too late, the damage had been done. Tears slipped down her cheeks as Alistair pulled her into his arms. "Please stop trying to get yourself killed. I cannot take it."

"I wanted you to have your brother back." She whispered, shivering.

"I know baby; but I cannot lose you, do you hear me?"

She rested her head against his chest. "I'm so sorry Alistair, he's not himself. You have to know that."

Alistair gazed at his brother, tears in his eyes.

"Call the Chantry." Cailan roared. "They have an apostate to retrieve." To her credit Grace gave no hint that his words had chilled her to the bone. He swung his sword effortlessly, almost teasingly. "Shall we Cousland?" The King leaned close so only Fergus could hear. "Let us see the colour of your blood. You are a traitor as your parents were."

Fergus growled and gripped the sword and shield Aedan handed to him.

Alistair turned to Anders and Zevran. "Get her out of here, now."

Grace turned to him with a look that stilled all three. "I'm not going anywhere until this is done." She turned back, her concentration on the two men positioned to fight. Grace was a little surprised she had received no argument.

Fergus allowed the images of his dead wife and child to rise up in him, surrounding himself in the shield of his rage and launched at the King. The sound of steel on steel rang out across the hall as the two men attacked and defended. Fergus slammed into the King with his shield knocking him to the ground, but Cailan rolled quickly avoiding the blade. He swung wildly, but only succeeded in the sword hitting off the shield. Fergus was like a tank, the deaths of his family powering his sword arm. Cailan realised several minutes into the fight that he was outmatched. He refused to yield; somehow hoping to wear down his opponent, but his own recent illness had weakened him. Cailan saw the blade hurtle towards him, saw how futile his plans had been and felt grief that his child would grow up without his father.

Alistair watched the blade as it sank into his brother's chest, saw the blood spill across the steel and golden armour and felt the room spin. His knees gave out beneath him, his breaths ragged gasps as he clutched his own chest. He gave a sob of despair and buried his face against Grace's shoulder; her arms wrapping around him. Anders and Zevran gripped his shoulders desperate to give him comfort. "Whatever he did he was my brother." Alistair gasped, each breath causing him to shudder.

Fergus moved to Alistair kneeling down, his heart aching for the pain in the hazel eyes turned to him. "I am truly sorry Alistair, but there was no other way."

Anora sank to her knees by her husband's still form, his blood soaking into the material of her dress. She wept violently, but her tears were for her own fate rather than that of her husband. She shook her father's hand from her shoulder glaring at him.

Loghain gazed at Alistair and realised he was likely to share Cailan's fate. He was astonished therefore when he was given a choice; to die by the sword, or take the Joining. It had been Duncan's suggestion and Grace was openly surprised when Alistair readily agreed, unwilling to have his childhood confidant and hero executed and lose someone else he had loved. Loghain accepted the opportunity to join the Wardens, understanding fully that he might not survive. He was removed from the room to await his fate, flanked by Danforth and Gavarth.

"Prince Alistair, it is your duty to act as Regent until Cailan's child is born and of age to take the throne." Bann Sighard began, trying to make sense out of the mess.

Alistair cleared his throat. "I should inform the assembly that I have joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens."

The assembly gasped, the Bann staring at him startled. "Your Highness, as a Warden you cannot act as Regent, or take the throne."

Alistair inwardly sighed in relief.

"Perhaps Bann Teagan being direct family you could act as Regent."

Alistair smiled to himself; he imagined Teagan's face would match his own, the man looked terrified.

Anora looked up in horror as Alistair stepped forward to address the assembly. "Anora is not carrying Cailan's child." He shuddered at the memory. "The child is mine." He winced at the disapproving gasps, but felt Grace move closer to him and felt himself strengthen. It was almost liberating in a way, no longer having to concern himself with how the nobles viewed him. "I renounce my claim to the throne for myself and my heirs and suggest Teyrn Fergus Cousland for King." Alistair smiled warmly at Fergus's look of shock. "I can think of no better man, save your brother and I have everything I ever wanted." His gaze rested on Grace."

"No, you can't!" Anora screamed.

Alistair smiled as Anora turned pale, having given the Landsmeet all the proof they needed that she was not in fact carrying Cailan's child.

"You bastard." She screamed as guards gripped her arms, pulling her to her feet.

"I know." He murmured.

Anora was taken to the tower where she would be allowed to live until she gave birth. Shortly after that her scheming head was to be removed.

**xXx**

The doors to the hall burst open and a Chantry Mother along with ten Templar's entered. Grace paled as Mother Lucia's eyes swept around the room, shrinking against the wall.

Lucia looked directly at her for an instant then looked away. "Why was I summoned?" Her shrill voice echoed in the hall. She took in the scene before her and gasped at the body of the King, which was being attended to. She hurried forward passing right by Grace; barely acknowledging anyone was there, the Templars following.

No-one mentioned Grace's confrontation with the King, or that she was a mage. She glanced to the door, and saw the Mother who had helped her looking directly at her, a smile on her face. Grace eased her way out of the hall terrified of drawing attention to herself.

"You look well Grace."

"How do you know it's me?"

The Mother smiled. "We all have our abilities."

"You never told me your name." Grace whispered as they headed to a shaded corner of the courtyard.

The Mother regarded her with her huge blue eyes and smiled. "Airana." She noticed Grace freeze as Mother Lucia and the Templar's exited the building, glancing at neither woman. Mother Airana took her hands, still smiling. "Do not fear them."

"They haunt my dreams, it's difficult to let go of what they did."

Mother Airana nodded. "The Maker will ensure they are punished, have faith. May the Makers blessings be upon you."

Grace watched her head back towards the Chantry, relieved that there was someone good within its walls.

**xXx**

Grace as usual was not allowed to attend the Joining, but she felt Loghain's taint before he had entered the room and so was aware he had survived. His eyes locked on hers and she tried not to let her disappointment show. She could have forgiven him many things, but not his betrayal of Alistair. With a sigh of resignation she walked forward, assuming she would be expected to change the taint within him.

Duncan caught her arm surprising her. "His penance if he survives that long will be to have the Calling."

**xXx**

Grace sat back on a comfortable chair watching the Wardens discuss the coming battle. They had taken up residence in the Cousland estate within Denerim. Alistair was animatedly running through a plan he and Aedan had concocted to draw the Archdemon to them. Grace realised Loghain was watching her and she sat up a little straighter, uncomfortable beneath his gaze.

"You have the perfect bait." His gravelly voice interrupted the discussion. "Why not use it."

Grace was well aware he was talking about her and her eyes narrowed. Leliana and Zevran moved closer to her and those Wardens not already standing rose to their feet. Loghain seemed undisturbed.

"Do not think I suggest this lightly; but from what you have said of what happened in the Deep Roads the Archdemon has an obvious interest in the mage, a good strategist would use that to his advantage."

Duncan looked like he was going to explode and let out an astonished gasp when Grace agreed with him.

"The man has a point." All eyes turned to her. "What? You can't tell me you haven't thought about it, I have." The Warden's shifted uncomfortably and she realised that this topic had already been discussed and disregarded. "It's not like I'm defenceless. I just get his attention and you guys do your thing." She refused to think about what that meant.

"And just how do you intend to attract his attention?" Duncan asked carefully.

"I really don't think that will be an issue." She shuddered involuntarily and smiled as Leliana rested her hand gently on her shoulder.

"What if the thing does not land, but spits fire everywhere." Leliana interjected miserably.

"I'll just turn into a dragon and force it to the ground."

"Don't even joke Grace." Alistair warned.

"Who's joking?"

Loghain stared at her startled. "You're a shape changer?"

Grace bit her lip. "Well I can change into a hawk; I can't imagine a dragon would be much more difficult, just bigger."

He shook his head, his features darkening.

"What?"

"I was just thinking about what Travis said."

Grace grew cold at the name and got to her feet pulling an astonished Loghain to his and slamming him against the wall. "For the very last time." She snarled, her voice dripping venom. "I may be many things, but I am NOT an abomination. Got it?"

Loghain nodded, momentarily left without speech.

"And just so you know; if that little shit ever comes near me again I'm going to make sure he has a very painful return to the Maker and I won't be using magic to do it!"

"He believes you are dead." Loghain said softly.

"How do you know that?"

"I was present to see your purification."

Grace backed away horror in her eyes.

"As was Cailan and Anora. The King was most eager to ensure that his brother's infatuation was resolved quickly." He barely registered Alistair's fury. "He was most disappointed that the fire had been ignited prior to our arrival. I wonder who was burnt instead of you. You will have to tell me some day how you escaped."

Grace felt white heat surge through her body "And just why did Alistair's love life cause Cailan such concern when he had him poisoned." Her tone was deadly; she was terrifying when defending the man she loved.

"A good strategist covers all of his bases."

"Does he now?" She hit Loghain square on the jaw, her fist encased with rock. He collapsed to the floor, cradling his broken jaw. Alistair pulled her gently away from the stricken Warden; holding her tightly, as much to keep his own anger in check as hers.

Loghain was taken to his room, a healer being called given that neither Grace nor Anders would help him.

Grace sat back down resting her head in her hands. "I'm sorry. I really need to get a hold on my temper."

Danforth let out a laugh which was oddly effective in easing the tension. "By the Maker she's your daughter Duncan."

Grace raised her head in surprise, watching Duncan's face flush slightly and a smile creep across his face.

"No more attacking my Wardens Grace. I need them."

"Agreed; but speaking of Wardens, what about the other Wardens, aren't we sending messages to them?"

Duncan became serious once more, shifting uncomfortably. "It seems for the moment we are on our own. I received word from Riordan. It seems the First Warden believes we have enough Warden's here."

"But that's crazy." She spluttered. "If we don't stop it here the Blight will spread."

"The First Warden does not wish to leave anywhere unprotected."

"Idiots." Grace muttered.

Duncan smiled warmly. "Do not fret Grace. We have enough Wardens to do what must be done and we have the support of the nobles; the Dalish, the Dwarfs and even some mages. I sent messengers and they are heading directly here as we speak. Our fellow Wardens should arrive tomorrow." He gave a deep sigh. "You should also all be aware that The Archdemon is on the move."

**xXx**

It was early morning when the Warden's arrived in Denirim. Grace had decided that no Ferelden Warden save Loghain would experience the ravages of the taint if she had anything to do with it. She knew Duncan would want to have a debrief and so she had wandered down to the training area to kill some time. Zevran and Leliana were sparring. Grace watched utterly spellbound by their dance, their speed stunning to watch.

"Grace." She turned to see her father standing at the top of the steps to the main door. "Could you come with me please?"

She nodded following him into the study that seemed to have become their base of operations. She smiled warmly as she was greeted by Treymour, Garrett, Michael, Farin, Liam, Stepheno, Cameron, Lynais and Loren.

"It has been some time my friend." Loren's soft voice caressed her ears with its lilting tones. "Much has happened. So; you are our Commanders daughter, such surprising news."

"It's a small world." She murmured.

"Indeed."

"Grace."

She focused on her father, well aware of what he was about to ask. "You don't need to ask; I felt them coming, I'm prepared."

Liam caught her hand gently. "Does it hurt?"

She looked startled. "I don't think so. I try to keep it as unsettling as possible. You should really ask the Wardens."

He shook his head smiling. "I mean for you."

She flushed; no-one had asked her that before, not even Alistair and she was aware of the glances the Wardens were giving each other. _Lie, just lie to him_. Liam's deep grey eyes held her fast. "Not so much." She murmured, apparently the best lie she could come up with.

He nodded stepping away from her. "I will not participate."

Grace stared at him horrified. "I don't understand, why?"

"I would not add more to the burden's you already carry."

Grace alternated between wanting to hug him and punch him, her emotions clear on her face. She stepped towards Liam, grasping a hand in both of hers. "This is something I can do to help. It helps me...makes me feel less..." She struggled for the words. "Less tainted myself." His compassionate eyes seemed to draw her in. "Don't make me beg." She said crossly.

The faint crack of a smile broke over his lips and he nodded. "As you wish my Lady."

Grace smiled and gestured for them to stand around her. Taking a deep breath she uncorked the lyrium potion, the taste never got any better.

**xXx**

Grace was asleep when Alistair climbed into their bed, his warm body wrapping around her. Grace stirred and felt his lips on her shoulder. "Have fun with the boys?" She giggled as he pulled her around to face him. He kissed her deeply, his tongue gliding over her lips making her moan and press against him, the taste of alcohol filling her mouth.

"Sorry." He was mumbled as he kissed his way down her throat, his fingers burning a trail across her stomach. "Sorry I never asked. Damn Liam, I should have asked that."

Grace smiled, pulling Alistair's lips back to hers. "I'm fine, no ill effects. Stop torturing yourself."

He groaned tugging at her bottom lip gently, then running the tip of his tongue across it soothingly. "I am an arse." He muttered.

"Alistair enough." She kissed him gently, her fingers casually moving down his stomach. His breath caught as she stopped just short giving him a teasing grin. He growled and pulled her beneath him making her giggle. She clung to him; each delicious thrust sending her over the edge, a curious side effect to her consumption of lyrium, it never failed to leave her sensitised. Alistair's body shuddered and she smiled at his breathless thanks to the Maker.

"How come he gets all the credit?" She muttered teasingly, making him laugh into her hair as he pulled her close.


	32. The Ties That Bind

Grace took a deep breath and stared at the dress her heart pounding. She slipped out of the bed and heard the splash of water hearing Leliana humming to herself. Grace gently ran her fingers over the soft fabric and trembled glancing at herself in the mirror. She was a different person to the one Flemeth had brought home, stronger in many ways and more fragile in others. So many precious moments and today was the start of a new life for her. Grace glanced up and smiled as Leliana moved behind her smiling into the mirror.

"Your bath is ready milady."

Grace chuckled before turning to her friend. "Thank you Lel."

Leliana hugged her, blinking back tears. "A perfect day for my perfect friend. You deserve no less, yes. Now come before the water cools."

**xXx**

Alistair felt Aedan's hand clamp on his shoulder reassuringly. "Nervous?"

Alistair smiled and shook his head. He had never been more certain of anything in his life.

"I just hope we both live beyond tomorrow." Dark thoughts started to intrude on his good humour.

"Just think of today my friend."

Alistair nodded fastening the last clasps of his tunic.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

**xXx**

Grace stared at herself in the mirror hardly recognising the woman before her. She turned to Leliana. "I can't do this."

Leliana turned to her shocked. "But.."

Grace smiled and shook her head. "Not this." She whispered fingering the soft material of the gown. "This." Pointing to her face. "Just for today I'm going to be me." Her fiery hair rested on her shoulders and golden eyes stared back at her.

Leliana smiled in relief; pulling the curls into submission, framing her face.

**xXx**

Eleanor Cousland had made her garden a sanctuary before her untimely death. She had tended the garden herself; nurturing it as she would a child, making it a haven in the busy city. Two cherry blossom trees created an arch of sorts, flanked by the most gorgeous flowers creating a natural aisle. It had grown a little wild, but this enhanced the beauty of this secluded spot.

Alistair stood beneath the tree arch, his heart thumping.

Aedan clasped his shoulder. "Don't worry; not even Grace could get into trouble from the bedroom to the garden."

Alistair grinned, his breath catching as Grace came into view.

**xXx**

Grace walked into the garden her heart pounding wildly; relieved that Alistair was waiting for her, stunning in soft grey tunic and pants with silver trim. Aedan was by his side, his outfit a royal blue that suited his dark features. Her own dress was white with a pale blue bodice that Leliana had somehow managed to create for her. There was no end to the woman's talents and ingenuity. Her hair was lifted up in a cascade of curls with sapphires gleaming in a tiara. Alistair was glowing with happiness and she felt the blush touch her cheeks. Mother Airana stood by him smiling almost smugly. Anders and Zevran were grinning like Cheshire cats surrounded by her Warden friends. She inclined her head towards the soon to be King, Fergus giving her a warm smile in return. Taking a deep breath Grace glanced at Duncan who held her arm, his eyes gleaming with pride.

"Ready?"

Grace couldn't help the huge smile that lit her face. "More than ready." They approached Alistair and Duncan squeezed her arm. Grace gave her father a loving glance, gently kissing his cheek. He placed her hand into Alistair's and she felt complete. Alistair ran this thumb gently over hers and she lost herself in his eyes. He gave her a swift kiss on the cheek, whispering softly how much he loved her. Grace was barely aware of the ceremony; she was aware only of the man next to her, the man she would give her life for. Their vows made he turned, cupping her cheek and drawing her to him. Grace melted into his kiss, smiling at the clapping and cheers of their family and friends.

"May you have a fruitful union." Mother Airana murmured.

Grace glanced at her startled as for a moment she thought she saw golden eyes. _Just a trick of the light. _Her attention snapped back to Alistair as he brought his lips close to hers.

"I love you Grace. My heart is yours my love, always."

**xXx**

Alistair carried her to their bed as night drew in and gently laid her down on the soft sheets, gazing adoringly at his bride. They were both acutely aware that neither of them might survive the battle tomorrow and Grace felt a deep terror that Alistair would take the final blow. They took their time; slowly pouring all of their love into their first night of marriage in case it was their last.

With each touch Grace felt cleansed. She was arching, a breathless cry leaving her lips as her body filled with light. She floated, aware of Alistair's hot breath against her cheek, his warm hands holding her to him. She whimpered as he gently parted them, pulling her close again nuzzling her cheek.

Alistair's heart was pounding as he gazed at Grace, her flushed cheeks and the smile that caressed her lips. She looked utterly contented and he memorised every part of her face. He had felt them connect as they had when she had healed him from the poison and he ached being apart from her despite holding her tight to his body. _Should the worst happen tomorrow my love I will always be with you_.

Grace lay awake long after Alistair had fallen asleep. She watched her Warden Prince slumber; his breathing even, his eyelids flickering in dream. "I will protect you with my last breath." She whispered, her heart aching that one of the Warden's would give his life to save them all.


	33. The Price of Necessity

Grace felt the approaching Darkspawn and shivered. Duncan had felt their approach as the sun crested the horizon and now all the Wardens were on alert; the taint vibrating through their senses, messenger's running back and forth with last minute arrangements.

"Well shave my back and call me an elf! So, this is the surface then."

Grace turned a huge smile on her face as Oghren stomped into view. She gave a squeal of delight and flew across the courtyard almost knocking him to the floor. "You're here!" She exclaimed happily.

"Wouldn't miss it."

**xXx**

Duncan faced his Wardens and their companions. "We have gathered what forces we could. It will be enough. It is our honour to perform our duty this day. Remember, only a Warden can take the final blow. Bring it down; debilitate it, but leave the killing to us. In war, victory. In peace vigilance. In death, sacrifice."

The Wardens bowed solemnly to their Commander; Grace, Leliana, Zevran and Oghren joining in the gesture.

"Say what you need to say now to each other, time grows short."

Grace approached her father. "Just in case, I want you to know I'm glad you're my father."

Duncan smiled and hugged her, hoping his embrace could encompass the words he was too choked say.

**xXx**

Oghren moved to Grace's side as she glanced up at the sky searching for the Archdemon, the hum of his taint getting stronger. "I guess this is it." His voice was softer than usual.

"I guess so."

"When from the blood of battle the Stone has fed, let the heroes prevail and the blighter's lie dead. As one of the blighter's, I sodding salute you. Let us show them our hearts, and then show them theirs."

Grace gave him a warm smile. "It's an honour Oghren."

"Let's get this nug humping son of a bitch and see what its innards look like."

**xXx**

Leliana hugged Grace tightly. "You are my dearest friend. Try not to get yourself killed, or I will be very cross."

Grace laughed. "Same goes for you." Leliana turned to return to Aedan, but Grace caught her arm. "Thanks for everything Lel."

The bard smiled and hugged her friend again. "When this is over we will sip wine and sing songs of our prowess."

Grace choked back her tears.

Aedan clasped her arm pulling her into a tight hug.

Grace trembled, this was getting too hard.

"Don't get dead!" He said sternly.

She clung to him for a moment, steeling herself for what was to come. "Take your own advice." She murmured tears in her eyes.

**xXx**

The Wardens and companions continued what was fast turning into goodbyes. Alistair slipped his arms around Grace's waist nuzzling her neck. She turned to see him standing with Anders and Zevran.

Zevran cupped her cheek and for the briefest moment his lips caressed hers. "Assassinating you was the best thing I have never done. By your side I would willingly storm the gates of the Dark City itself. Never doubt it!"

She clung to him. "Stay safe, please."

Anders carefully pulled her into his arms as Zevran stepped aside; his lips seeking hers in a soft kiss, again just the briefest touch, but a reminder of the intensity of their feelings. "You are a part of my heart Grace, try not to break it."

She gave a muffled sob tears slipping down her cheeks.

Alistair pulled her back into his arms, claiming her lips in a deeply passionate kiss. He rubbed her nose with his playfully and kissed her again. "Let us try to make it through this in one piece." He murmured.

"No heroics!"

"No heroics." He agreed. "Well then my beloved wife, let us find this Archdemon and kick its arse."

**xXx**

Fergus surveyed the massed army and had never felt prouder of his brother and the Wardens. Standing as one were the armies of men, Dalish and Dwarfs, surrounding Denerim as the Darkspawn approached. He addressed the assembled warriors, rogues and mages.

"Before us stands the might of the Darkspawn hoard. Gaze upon them now, but fear them not. Today we defend Denerim. Today we avenge those lost at Ostagar. Today we show the Grey Wardens we honour their sacrifice. For Ferelden! For the Grey Wardens!"

The army surged forward to meet the Darkspawn, crushing the first wave with little loss.

**xXx**

The battle raged on; Darkspawn slipping through the gaps, trying to destroy the city, but surrounded at every turn. Grace ran across the battlement, raining down fire and ice her senses screaming that the Archdemon was close, but he had not yet shown himself. _Where are you? _

Maverin notched another arrow Grace lighting the tip with flame. He sent it into the heart of an Emissary; but not before it had manifested a death cloud, the soldiers nearest collapsing to their knees.

Aedan span through the air driving his sword into an ogre's throat as Gavarth drove his axe through a meaty thigh, Shadow tearing into its chest. The creature slumped to the ground crushing the shriek that appeared behind it.

Leliana drove her daggers into the back of a Genlock piercing its heart, before spinning and slitting the throat of a Hurlock who was looming over her. Hunter ripping out the throat of a Genlock racing towards her.

Oghren gave a roar and he and his dwarven company charged forward an unstoppable tide of swinging steel, the Darkspawn crushed beneath their fierce assault.

Alistair took the head from an Emissary who had been distracted by Zevran; the warrior and assassin grinning at each other, before being swallowed up once more in the fight.

Anders threw down a repulsion glyph and cast a lightning storm that raged at the gates slowing the onslaught of the Darkspawn.

The air rang with the clash of steel and the cries of the injured and the victorious. Battle cries were roared out, soldiers giving their lives in defence of their way of life. The numbers of Darkspawn finally began to ebb, the injured defended by their fellows until aid could reach them.

The Wardens regrouped as the last of the current assault fell to their blades. Duncan yelled for Grace and Maverin, it was time to get to Fort Drakon.

Grace turned sharply her eyes widening as fire rained onto the battlement cutting off their retreat. The Archdemon landed on the stone his eyes fixing on them.

"No!" Duncan roared, his heart almost bursting from his chest. They raced forward flames stopping their progress, Anders ice spells doing little to dampen the raging fire

Maverin narrowed his eyes pulling out his sword. The gods willing it would end here. "Distract it." Maverin whispered gently squeezing her arm.

Grace felt the lump swell in her throat, blinking back tears knowing one Warden would have to make the sacrifice. "Maverin." She whimpered.

"It is my honour." He whispered.

Grace surrounded her body in a golden light, obscuring Maverin from view. The Archdemon hissed and lowered its neck until its face was inches from hers. Grace was barely aware of the shouts and screams, of the heat of the flames surrounding them. Her heart pounded fiercely, her mouth dry with fear as its fetid breath drifted across her face.

"_**I'm going to destroy everyone you love."**_ He taunted.

"The Wardens will kill you!"

"_**Will you weep when they are dead? Will you weep as I rule? Will you weep when you fail?"**_

"The only tears I will shed are ones of joy when I see your corpse!"

Maverin struck true; the blade sinking through the tender flesh of the underbelly, before he was aware of the Archdemon's roar, of a searing pain that ran the length of his body, of Grace's screams, of blood and the crushing blow as a claw gripped him. The life was gone from him before his body landed at the feet of his brother Wardens.

Duncan sank to his knees and carefully closed Maverin's eyes. "Walk proudly with your Ancestors my friend." He whispered; his eyes locking once more on Grace, terror beating in his breast.

Grace stared into the eyes that had haunted her, shielding herself as flames poured from his mouth. She knew he had no intention of killing her, his game was to toy with the emotions of her family and friends.

Alistair stared in horror, unable to restrain the agonised cry that left his lips. He looked frantically for a way to reach her, every avenue drenched in flame.

Grace snarled as the flames licked around her shield. She felt his laughter, shuddering at the projection in her mind of the Wardens dead on the stone before him.

"_**I will make you watch as I feast on your Commanders heart."**_ He whispered into her mind as he rose into the sky, flying lazily towards Fort Drakon.

Grace pushed out her shield, the flames forced away from her, her body shimmering as she transformed into a hawk and rose swiftly above the flames as they folded in on each other.

"Are you shitting me?" Danforth bellowed as she took off after the Archdemon.

**xXx**

Grace flew as fast as she could, but finally the fact that this was completely ridiculous penetrated the anger that swarmed her mind. Changing direction she swooped down, reaching the Warden's as they entered the main door to the prison. She transformed breaking into a run behind them. She ran passed her father to catch up to Alistair. It took them all of two seconds to realise she was with them before Alistair had her pinned against the wall kissing her fiercely, and then yelling at her. "Kill the Archdemon now, yell later." She said; adrenalin pumping through her, grabbing his hand and pulling him on. Each floor seemed saturated with the foul creatures. _How the hell did they get in here!_ Grace froze a Genlock, shattering it with a kick to the chest; there was no sense of satisfaction, only a need to get to the top and put an end to the voice that scratched in her brain. They burst out onto the roof and Grace stared up at the creature who had haunted her nightmares.

Its head turned, its eyes focusing on her. It tore into her mind, making her knees buckle as she clutched her head.

"I'm fine." She whispered as Alistair gripped her in concern.

The Archdemon narrowed its eyes and looked from Grace, to Alistair and back again. Ice clenched her heart as it changed its stance and focused on Alistair giving a roar that sounded a lot like rage.

Alistair paled. "Is that thing jealous?" He whispered, realising that Anders and Zevran were carefully pulling him back. It gave another piercing roar and opened its mouth, fully intending to incinerate the Warden Prince. They felt the energy shift and a huge block of ice formed in its mouth preventing the flames. As it choked it was lifted into the air and slammed against the stone. The Wardens turned to see a very angry Grace surrounded by golden coils; her staff pulsing with energy, glaring at the Archdemon.

"Back off you over grown lizard, he's mine." She snarled.

The Archdemon snapped its head up torn between crushing her and the one she loved.

"What's wrong, Darkspawn got your tongue." She yelled slamming it with another energy bolt that sent it flying into the stone turret.

"Makes you kinda glad she's on our side don't it." Oghren grinned, brandishing his axe. He had followed after Grace having no intention of her being in the fight without him.

The Archdemon gave a roar of pain, but still turned back to Alistair.

"What's wrong Urthemiel, been asleep for too long. If you're the best the Old gods have to offer its pathetic!"

He roared in fury at her taunting, but still refused to turn from Alistair.

_Makers sake what the hell do I have to do_. Grace put her hand on her hip, forcing a smirk to curl her lips. "You know for a God of Beauty you're pretty damn ugly. The taint really isn't a compelling look."

The Archdemon slowly turned to her, hatred gleaming in its eyes.

_Well Grace you wanted his attention, I think you have it_.

Duncan glanced panicked and proud in the same breath. The Wardens ran to the Archdemon; slicing and hacking, but it paid no attention, Grace was its target and he no longer wanted her alive. "Take out its wings!" Duncan roared.

**xXx**

She did what she was here to do; Grace kept the Archdemon's focus on her. Her magic flowed and she connected with it, pinning it to the floor briefly giving her companions a chance to make their assault. It gave a roar of pain, hitting its enemies with its tail.

A huge claw grasped Danforth, squeezing him tightly, his ribs cracking under the pressure. He gave a scream, which was cut short as he was flung across the tower, slamming into the wall.

Grace sent a blast of healing energy and hoped it would be enough. She walked slowly towards the Archdemon, her movement holding it transfixed. It hissed, barring its teeth and roared fire which she easily deflected, using it to incinerate a group of Darkspawn that had just burst from the tower itself. "You can do better than that!" She taunted.

**xXx**

Grace realised with a sense of horror that they were losing. The Darkspawn had overwhelming numbers and many of the Wardens had already fallen, severely injured if not dead. She sent wave after wave of healing energy in between dodging the Archdemon, but she knew she couldn't last at this pace.

The Archdemon had rose into the air circling the tower; one wing damaged, but not badly enough. It roared triumphantly, taunting them.

She glanced at Duncan her plan simple.

"Grace, no!" He yelled.

"If you have a better idea how to get it back down I'll hear it."

Duncan groaned.

"Grace don't you dare!" Alistair roared thrusting his sword into the stomach of a Hurlock, kicking it off his blade and running towards her.

She hesitated only a moment, but a roar from the Archdemon and flames enveloping Stephano made her mind up for her. She turned and vaulted over the edge of the tower. The wind tore at her hair and body, but white light swelled out from her and her body changed. Grace suddenly realised she had no idea how to work a dragon's body. She had assumed it would be something like the hawk, but the wings seemed too long, the body too heavy and the tail kept her off balance. Her tail smashed into a wall sending bricks hurtling to the ground. _Oops. Fergus is going to kill me_. _I really should have practised this._ She lurched around another building taking its roof off. Groaning she tried to gain some height before things finally clicked into place. _Please don't let anyone have seen that._ With a roar she swept through the sky towards the Archdemon.

Wide eyed the soldiers and Wardens alike stared at the pale blue dragon that shot passed them.

Reaching the Archdemon Grace concentrated on tearing into its wings, forcing it back onto the tower. She hissed in rage tearing into its neck as it ripped into her back. She used her tail as purchase to twist herself so the Archdemon was beneath her, hurtling them back down towards the roof. Locked in deadly combat the dragons twisted, each fighting for the upper hand before slamming into the stone of the tower. Grace momentarily lost consciousness resuming her human form.

The Archdemon gave a roar of triumph, its claw reaching to crush her. Hunter and Shadow ran at it, distracting it long enough for Leliana and Zevran to pull Grace to relative safety.

Grace opened her eyes groggily and rose to her feet exhausted; her light armoured robe torn and bloody. Few were left standing; some dead, some too injured to move. Panic seized her when she couldn't find her father. Silver armour shimmered and she cried out as Alistair and Anders stood together against the Archdemon. It caught her eye gave a roar and moved towards them. Grace crystallised her pain into a web of energy between her fingers. The Archdemon roared and she fired it, the intricate webbing constricting around the creature and pinning it to the stone. It gave a hideous roar, realising the time of its death was approaching. She ran to them; slipping on the blood of the fallen, crying out in desperation.

Alistair turned to her; his heart, his love, his wife and knew he would die a thousand deaths to ensure she lived. She had reached him; tears streaming down her face gripping his arm, begging them not to be the ones to make the sacrifice.

Anders gazed at her; his face grim.

Grace covered her face in horror there was no-one else, her worst nightmare was happening.

Alistair gently cupped Grace's chin; pulling away her hands, caressing her lips with his, sinking into her kiss one last time.

Anders nodded as Alistair broke the kiss and stared at him directly, tears in his eyes. Anders wrapped his arms around Grace, holding her tightly as Alistair pulled back.

"Look after her." His voice choked.

"Always."

"No!" She screamed. "You promised me no heroics!"

Alistair paused, gazing at her lovingly. "So what was you transforming into a dragon and taking on the Archdemon single-handedly?"

"Necessity." She sobbed knowing she had condemned them with that one word.

"This is necessity." He said gently, turning and running towards the beast.

She screamed struggling in Anders arms; but he held tightly, Zevran's hands joining him in restraining her. She watched as Alistair's blade slit along the Archdemon's throat, watched as he steadied himself, gathered his strength and finally plunged the sword into the Archdemon's head. His body convulsed in the white light that shot out of the Archdemon like a beacon. She heard his screams; was aware of her own and then the explosion, the light surging out, knocking down those it hit.

Grace fought against the pain that assaulted her body as the energy wave hit her and pinned her to the floor. Her body was pulsing painfully and she clutched her stomach in agony, curling up and struggling to breathe. The energy seemed to bury itself into her, a scorching heat that was slow to fade.

Anders held her, terrified as her body spasmed.

She screamed again; a cry of pure pain then lay still, weeping softly. Gritting her teeth against the pain she pulled away from Anders and Zevran crawling to Alistair; pushing her way through rubble, the bodies of the injured and the dead, trying not to see the faces of the Wardens who had perished in the fight. Alistair's eyes were closed; his skin pale, determination etched across his features. Grace pulled him into her arms, tears falling from her cheeks onto his armour. "In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice." She whispered.


	34. Epilogue

Alistair felt the darkness receding and felt confused. He was aware of warmth and the wetness and salt of tears, as lips touched his own. He opened his eyes with a shuddering breath. Grace stared at him in astonishment; her eyes wide, tears still wet on her cheeks. He gently ran his fingers through her hair and smiled. "If this is the Fade I like it so far."

Grace's mind reeled in shock, joy and utter amazement. "You're alive." His fingers closed around her hand, bringing it to his lips. "You're alive." She whispered again as though this would make it seem more real. She helped him to sit up, her own pain now a distant throb.

Those that still lived were starting to gather, the Wardens stunned to see Alistair still breathing.

Grace caressed his cheek; traced the line of his jaw, felt his fingers entwined in hers and kissed him hungrily, thanking the Maker that somehow her husband had lived.

The Raven blinked its golden eyes, preening smugly. Everything was going exactly to plan.

**xXx**

Two months after the death of the Archdemon Fergus Cousland was officially crowned King of Ferelden. The ceremony was a lavish affair, the populous embracing their new King.

Aedan watched proudly as his brother accepted his new role.

Grace leaned against him gently, smiling. "Your brother will be a wonderful King."

Aedan grinned, his fingers interlocked with Leliana who smiled radiantly. "I think so too. Hopefully once we get to Amaranthine we will be able to track down that bastard Howe, Fergus has managed to get a few leads."

Grace squeezed his arm gently pulling him from darker thoughts.

"Well that's for another day." He stated hastily.

Grace moved back to Alistair who was holding his daughter in his arms. She was sleeping soundly, her tiny hand grasping his finger. He gazed at her adoringly. Grace smiled; not the family she had expected, but Aurora had captured her heart as much as she had captured her fathers. Alistair smiled as Grace wrapped her arm around his waist, leaning against him. Aurora woke, gurgling happily and stretching out her other hand towards Grace. She obliged and allowed her stepdaughter to hold her finger. She couldn't help the wish that this beautiful baby girl was theirs, but she was part of Alistair and that was enough for Grace.

The hall fell silent as Fergus held up his hand signalling he was about to speak. "My friends; many have paid a heavy price to defeat the blight and some made the greatest sacrifice, but I promise you all, that those sacrifices will not be forgotten. We will rebuild and become stronger for all we have experienced. We will endure." This was received by much clapping and cheering. He held up his hand again smiling. "However, there is one to whom we must accord a special honour. The one to kill the Archdemon survived and is with us still."

Alistair paled and glanced at Grace who was struggling to keep a straight face. "Grace." He muttered.

"Alistair Theirin, Grey Warden please will you join me."

Alistair groaned, but dutifully handed his daughter to Grace. Wincing apologetically at Duncan who he realised must be in on whatever was going to happen judging by the grin on his face. "You had something to do with this I know you did." He murmured to Grace who smiled sweetly. Alistair joined Fergus very aware of the King's grin.

"Ladies and gentlemen may I present the Hero of Ferelden."

The hall burst into an explosion of wild clapping and raucous cheers that lasted for long moments.

Alistair raised an eyebrow to the King. "The Hero of Ferelden?"

"Your wife's idea." Fergus said with a chuckle. "Though it is a most suitable title."

Alistair groaned, but managed to smile for his captive audience. "I suggest you for King and this is my thanks." He muttered under his breath.

Fergus laughed loudly, clasping his embarrassed friends arm and pulling him into a hug. "You have my eternal thanks my friend."


End file.
